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feelbokkie · 1 year

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When he has to keep your relationship a secret

☀️Feelbokkie M.list☀️

Part 2

genre: disgusting amount of fluff

pov: 2nd person

description: Subtle ways bf!skz simps for you when he can’t reveal your relationship.

pairing: bf!skz x reader

warnings: there is like one swear word

word count: 1,934

방 찬 (Bang Chan)

Makes a playlist

Loves you and also wants to keep your relationship private anyway

But also adores you and wants to show you off

He thought it would be fun to mess with Stay too

So he just started playing music that spelled out your name with the titles during his lives

He didn't do it all in one day because he was scared that someone would figure it out immediately

So he spread it across several lives

After he was done spelling out your name, he would just play your favorite songs

Or songs that would remind him of you

Or a song that you two heard while you were together and formed a core memory to

Would be blushing smiling like a dumbass while the songs are playing, remembering you and all the happy memories

Makes a playlist with those songs and shared the link on his bubble

He adds songs to it periodically so fans don't read too much into the order and see your name

이 민 호 (Lee Min-Ho)

A special hand sign

He's not the type who is big on matching couple items

And you were okay with that, he wasn't supposed to talk about your relationship anyway

But he was so in love with you, he wanted to tell the world

So he came up with a hand sign that he could do during performances and vlogs

Spent a lot of time researching sign language to make sure he wasn't going to do anything offensive or stupid

It also needed to be small and not complex so he could sneak it into dances

The first time he did it in a performance, he sat down with you and watched your reaction to the video

"Why did you do that? Did you forget the move and freestyle?"

You had sat through enough rehearsals and watched enough of their performances to know the choreography, especially Minho's parts, to know that he was not supposed to do that

"No, I did that on purpose." "Why?" "For you." "What?"

He let you sit confused for the rest of the video before finally explaining

The hand sign is meant to let you know that he loves you

And misses you

And is thinking about you

He did it every chance he got

It got to the point where Stay noticed and just thought it was a Lee Know Quirk™️

Naturally, they adopted it

You thought he would be annoyed that Stay was doing it too

"They're just helping spread and amplify my love for you."

서 창 빈 (Seo Chang-Bin)

Wears a necklace with your name

Genuinely does not care about having to keep it a secret

Wants to shout it from the rooftop

And has

The only reason he keeps quiet is because you don't feel comfortable being in the spotlight

But he will wear a necklace with your name on it

Like a dog collar

It literally says "If lost, return to Y/N"

Smug bastard

Refuses to take it off

Won't even tuck it inside his shirt

Will even purposely show it with your name facing out in pictures

It has to be edited in every picture

It's either edited to read "If lost, return to Stay," made to look blank, or edited out completely

Stay thinks that the return to Stay is the original so they made their own versions of it

"If lost, return to *insert select skz member*" or "If lost, return to Stray Kids"

Fans don't try to read the necklace anymore, they just think it's the Stay one

It's also a tiny locket

Which you only found out about 3 months into him owning the necklace

Naturally, there is a little picture of you in it

황 현 진 (Hwang Hyun-Jin)

Couple rings

He wears a lot of rings anyway, so nobody would think about the one that you two share being a couple ring

It was the one ring he never swapped out so Stay just thought it was his favorite

They aren’t wrong

That thing is always on his person at all times

If it doesn’t match an outfit for a photoshoot or a performance he’ll either wear it as a necklace or in his shoe

One time he tried to be creative and tied it to his hair so you could see it when they did a close up for a performance

Naturally, the ring flew off when he was dancing and it was lost

Couldn’t even go on stage to look for it when he realized because another group was on stage

Had a mini panic attack and called you crying while the guys tried to help find it after the show

You tried to calm him down over the phone and tell him that you two can just buy a new one

He didn’t want a new one, he wanted that one

He knew he could buy a new one, but he couldn’t buy the memories that came with the original

He won it in a claw machine during the date where you two made it official

It was one of those games where the prizes are actually expensive and good quality

After you two redeemed the rings, he got down on one knee and “proposed”

“Y/N, will you make me the happiest man alive and allow me to be your boyfriend?”

And on your one year anniversary you two got each other’s names and your anniversary date engraved on the inside

A few days later a staff member brought the ring and told him how they found it when they were taking down the set

After that he made sure all of his performance clothes had a tiny pocket on the inside just for his ring

한 지 성 (Han Ji-Sung)

Paints one of his nails to match yours

It started randomly

You two were watching an anime together and you were painting your nails because you needed something to do with your hands

When you finished, you saw how engrossed be was in the show

So you painted his pinky nail to see if he would noticed

He didn’t

After you finished painting his pinky, you contemplated painting the rest of his nails to see how far you could get

Decided against it since it would be a waste and he would just take it off soon anyway

“Look, we match!” Drawing attention to your handiwork

He looked confused at first

He saw how happy it made you and decided to just leave it

You were honestly surprised to see the nail polish still there 2 weeks later and slightly chipped

He was not happy to see that you had painted them a different color

“We don’t match anymore.”

It’d take you a second to realize that he was talking about the nail polish

"Let's get that fixed, shall we?"

"Can we put it on this finger this time?"

He would point to his ring finger

Wears his nail polish like a wedding ring

Has gotten to the point where you just text him when you changed the color

Would not let his stylist remove the polish or paint over it anytime he had to paint his nails for work

That nail was reserved for you two only

Fans thought he was just trying to be stylish and different with the singular different color nail

He bought a large set of mini nail polishes so that he would be prepared for the next time you went and painted your nails

Takes them with him on tour with him so he can keep up

Stares at his hand fondly and thinks of you

이 용 복 (Lee Felix Yong-Bok)

Matching bracelets

He was helping you move out of your parents' house and into your first apartment when he found a bracelet making kit

Persuaded you into taking a quick break so you can make bracelets

You taught him a few simple braids that he could weave together on his own

Took him a few minutes but he got the hang of it

When you two were finished, he suggested that you two swapped bracelets

Only takes it off when he has to for work or when he's taking a shower

Stay once made fun of it because it was so out of place with all of his expensive accessories

"This is the most expensive accessory I own, actually."

He felt bad because the one you wore was like a shoelace compared to his

You had incorporated both his and your favorite colors and somehow added little heart beads

Bought his own kit and practiced making bracelets until he was satisfied

Surprised you with the new bracelet

"Now I have one for each arm." "You can just take off the first one." "Why would I do that?" "You don't have to pretend to like it." "Why would I pretend to like it? I love it, you made it for me. A Lix original."

Would try not to cry, and fail miserably, over those words while tying the bracelet for you

김 승 민 (Kim Seung-Min)

Keeps a photo of you in his phone case

You two went and printed photo cards of each other at the mall one day

It was one of those kiosk where you could upload personal photos and they print out in photo card form immediately

You guys have two each, one individual photo of each other and your favorite couple photos

He keeps the couple photo framed and takes it with him on tour

But the one of just you? That's on his person 24/7

He considered getting one of those phone cases where you could insert a photo card or a clear case but he knew that would only cause him trouble, you two were meant to be a secret

So inside the phone case it went where it couldn't be seen

That thing is so protected, even if his phone fell into a sink full of water, your photocard would be fine

Pulls it out and stares at it when he's sad

Or tired

Or anxious

Or stressed

Or mad

Or drained

Or happy

He's so in love with you that he's always staring

Especially when you two are apart for long periods of time

If you two are unable to video chat but can talk on the phone normally, he'll pull out the photo card so he can at least look at you while talking

Panics any time his phone is missing

That photo cards, and the countless other photos he has of you on his phone would be gone forever

If you ever ask him about where he keeps his picture of you, he will lie and say it's at the dorm or something

You can't know how much he is actually in love with you

Sometimes the boys will find him asleep clutching his phone and when they go to try and take it so that they can charge it, they realized that he was just staring at the photocard taped to the case

양 정 인 (Yang Jeong-In)

Sets a picture of you as his lock screen

It took a lot of work

Chan had to help him figure out how to do it at first

If anyone looked at his phone, they wouldn’t see you, they would see a random landscape

But, if anyone held down on the lock screen, they would see the landscape pan over to you and you would be smiling at the camera

He saw that trend where people were turning live photos in to lock screens and figured it was the best compromise

Plays the video often when he misses you

Just sitting there, looking at his phone lock screen

Is careful how he holds his phone in public, does not want to accidentally trigger the video to play

Gets teased and called a simp for how often he looks at his phone smiling

But he doesn’t care

He just want to see the love of his life

—

Buy me a coffee?

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bussyslayer333 · 1 year

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All I want for Christmas (is you)

summary: some fortunately placed mistletoe forces bob to tell you how he truly feels.

pairing: robert floyd x best friend!reader

word count: 2.6k

warnings: smut, swearing, mentions of alcohol, slutshaming jake LOL, bob is a pussyeater™️ bc i said so

MDNI this is an 18+ fic

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Robert Floyd has been your closest friend for the past 2 years. You had been worried when you first moved to San Diego for a fresh start that it had been a horrible mistake, in fact you were sat in homesick tears at the beach when he stumbled upon you. Since that day he hadn’t really left your side, which is where he could be found currently.

You were both nursing an interesting mulled wine that Rooster had tried to brew for the team Christmas party. You weren’t quite sure why you were here since you didn’t work with said group of aviators who had become your closest friends but they had absolutely insisted.

The night had just started really, Penny was graciously hosting the gathering at the festively decorated Hard Deck which she had closed just for the team. You had begged her to let you help in some way since you were leaching on to their party so she had allowed you to help her decorate along with Mav and Rooster. The perimeter was surrounded in sparkly tinsel and fairy lights, there was a large tree in the corner of the room covered in mismatched baubles and a large piece of mistletoe hanging down in the other corner. You were still wary of Rooster’s mischievous giggles as he taped it up.

When the rest of the aviators had arrived along with the few higher ups Mav had invited they had all commended your decorating skills, especially Bob. He had told you very early on that Christmas was one of his favourite holidays, evident now by his gaudy (and most definitely itchy) Christmas sweater he was wearing.

“Baby on board, you’re gonna have to turn that shit off I’m pretty sure your interfering with some type of space station signal right now.”

Jake laughed, referring to the Christmas lights which actually lit up on Bob’s sweater. You jumped to his defence immediately,

“What are you even supposed to be? Slutty Santa? Tasteful.”

Phoenix snorted into her wine, though you weren’t sure if it was because she had accidentally swallowed a cinnamon stick again.

Jake smirked, “you want to come sit on my lap and find out?”

He gestured down to the tight black slacks he was wearing, it was paired with a very lowly buttoned up red silk shirt and a tiny Santa hat that had been placed on his head by Maverick upon his entrance.

You roll your eyes and don’t dignify him a response whilst everyone slowly resumes their previous conversation.

“Thanks darlin’.” Bob smiled down at you somewhat bashfully.

You giggle at him and flick the button on his sweater which changes the setting on the lights to fade in and out of their colours slowly.

“I love this sweater.”

“I know you do, that’s why I wore it.”

You look up to meet his eyes and he’s looking at you earnestly. You flush slightly but blame it on the drinks you’ve been consuming.

You’re snapped from his gaze when Fanboy announces loudly that he and Payback will be starting off karaoke.

Their rendition of ‘Baby it’s cold outside’ isn’t the worst thing you’ve ever heard, and Fanboy has a surprisingly high vocal range. Bob is snickering into your hair behind you, trying to appear encouraging for his fellow WSO but failing slightly.

“Bet you 50 that bagman is gonna sing Mariah.”

You turn, shocked at Bob’s admission, “no way! He’s gonna sing some Frank Sinatra classic in hopes that I’ll start swooning.”

Bob raises his eyebrows and sticks his hand out for you to shake. You hum, considering your options then finally give in, placing your hand in his. Bob notes how soft your hand is compared to his, he strokes your thumb slightly before letting go. The contact brings heat to your cheeks that you hope isn’t too visible.

“You’re on Robby.”

Bob’s lips quirk up at the nickname but he doesn’t mention it, and he stalks off to get himself another drink. You let out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding as Phoenix approaches.

She has a sly smile on her face but still looks gorgeous nonetheless, she’s wearing an emerald satin top and black jeans. You go to complement her but she cuts in,

“You look gorgeous, I love this dress, when are you and Bob going to fuck?”

You’re still comprehending her comment about your dress before her full statement registers in your brain. You gawk at her for a second whilst she chuckles evilly.

“I- we’re not- Look me and Bob are just friends.”

She rolls her eyes, Phoenix has been your second closest friend since moving to San Diego. Her presence was always welcome and you usually adored her but you weren’t enjoying what she was currently insisting upon. And that wasn’t because it isn’t true, but more because you’re worried what will happen if you finally say it aloud.

“You are thinking so loudly right now.”

You shove her shoulder lightly, “He’s not interested in me.”

You look over to where Bob is stood at the bar, talking to a tall redhead. You think her name is Isla, she works in the control tower and to your knowledge was invited by Halo.

Phoenix laughs at your admission and wistful expression, “I cannot believe you’re this down bad for a man in a light up Christmas sweater. Also, he is head over heels for you.”

“I like his sweater!”

“You are the only one in here who thinks that.”

You hmph at Phoenix’s comment, “I bet she does as well.”

You gesture to the redhead who is now laughing heartily as Bob shows her the different settings on his sweater.

“Who? Halo’s girlfriend?”

You splutter slightly on your drink.“I thought she had a thing with that girl at work- ohhhhhhh.”

Phoenix scoffs slightly, “Glad to know you pay attention to the rest of us babe.”

“Shush, should I go talk to him?”

“You don’t need to.”

You look confusedly at Phoenix until you feel a familiar strong hand on your waist.

“I’m not interrupting am I?”

Phoenix answers for you, “Of course not, she’s all yours.”

With that, she winks and is off. You turn to face Bob, he’s significantly taller than you and it feels evident now even with your heels on. You’re craning your neck up slightly to make eye contact with him. You take a second to study how he looks, his cheeks are tinted slightly pink and his lips look incredibly soft, his blue eyes are dilated behind his glasses where his hair flops slightly down onto. He forwent the gel because he knows you like his hair in its natural state, even if it impairs his vision even more. He speaks up first,

“You look really beautiful tonight.”

You avert your eyes from his, aware of the rising colour in your cheeks.

“You think?”

You’re fiddling girlishly with the hem of your dress, it’s a babydoll style dress that always got you many compliments.

“I know.”

You can sense that Bob has something else he wants to say but he’s interrupted by Rooster announcing the next person to come and sing.

“Bagman, please take the stage.”

Jake grabs the mic off Bradley and you hear him mumble something about getting his callsign right. Bob’s hand is in yours and he’s pulling you over to the corner of the room furthest from the stage. You look at him questioningly and he’s explaining himself with a smirk on his face,

“I wanted to give you some privacy whilst you lose this bet.”

You smack his arm playfully,

“Shut up, you’re just embarrassed you’re wrong.”

“Sureee.”

Jake has finally finished his rambling and selects a song. You’re certain he’s gonna pick a Sinatra classic and wait for the opening notes to Have yourself a merry little Christmas. It’s safe to say you’re surprised when the familiar jingle of Mariah Carey starts up and Jake is already belting out the first notes. You look at Bob, accusatory,

“You’ve rigged this!”

Bob is doubled over laughing, you finally take your eyes off of him to turn around and huff. Which is when you notice your fortunate position. You and Bob are stood directly under Rooster’s mistletoe. You freeze slightly which catches Bob’s attention, he follows your eye line.

“Gosh, I promise I didn’t drag you over here just to kiss you!”

“Just?” You tease.

“No! I mean obviously I would love to kiss you but that’s not what i meant! I wouldn’t ever trick you into-”

You shut up his rambling my planting a kiss on his lips, they’re as soft as you imagined and he tastes sweet like the cinnamon in the wine. He kisses you back almost immediately and your lips mould together perfectly. You pull away first, noticing some of your lipgloss had transferred onto his slightly swollen lips.

“Woah.”

Bob’s exclamation makes you giggle, he’s gazing down at you in awe and you feel enclosed in a fuzzy bubble where it’s just the two of you. Hangman’s awful singing sounds light years away as well as the rest of the crowds cheers for him. Bob places one of his hands on your waist and the other he uses to lift up and brush a stray hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear.

“Can I kiss you again?” Bob whispers, ever the gentleman.

“I’d love you to.” You smile, leaning in.

You lips crash against each other again, with more vigour this time. Your hands rake through the hair at the back of his neck and he moans quietly into your mouth, giving you the initiative to slip your tongue into his mouth. He reciprocates your action, making you weak in the knees, unsteady in your heels. In the distance you hear Jake finishing up the last notes of Mariah Carey whilst everyone joins in at various different volumes. Bob pulls away and whispers into your ear,

“Do you think we could sneak out now?”

You go to protest, seeing as you haven’t been here long but see the lust blown look in his eyes and decide against it, instead nodding your head and slipping your hand into his. Bob drags you around the crowds to the exit of the Hard Deck. Before you can peacefully slip through the door you look back and catch Phoenix’s eye. She winks with a knowing smile and you giggle slightly. She was never wrong.

Finally leaving the Hard Deck you notice Bob is dragging you to his car,

“I’m only five mins away.” You smirk into his shoulder.

“Yours it is.”

The short drive to your house is tense, neither of you sure whether this was truly happening. Bob speaks up,

“As much as I want to fuck you, I can’t if it’s just gonna be a one time thing. I’ve been in love with you since the day we met. ”

You look to him and see how honest he looks, gnawing at his lower lip nervously, your heart races at his admission. You smack his arm in annoyance.

“Ow!”

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner!” You urge him, “I’ve been yours this whole time. All you had to do was tell me you’re mine.”

Bob looks down at you with such love in his eyes it’s hard to imagine that you just smacked the shit out of him. You’re pulling up to the outside of your cottage when he finally speaks up.

“I’m yours.”

You smash your lips again his for the third time this night with even more urgency, but you pull away even quicker, wary of your nosy middle aged neighbours.

Once your front door is closed, Bob’s hands are all over you. He’s lifting the hem of your dress to your waist and grabbing at the exposed skin. You let out slightly pathetic whimpers as his kisses make their way down your neck, chest and stomach.

“Never stop making those sounds for me darlin’.”

You whimper at the pet name, satiating him. His kisses reach your lower stomach where he finally stops to admire your panties. They’re cherry red, lacy, and don’t leave much to the imagination. He groans at the sight, making you flush even further whilst he toys with the little bow at the top.

“Can I?” He gestures downwards.

“Please.” You whine.

Bob’s nimble fingers are hooking under the sides of your panties and he pulls them down to your ankles swiftly. He helps you step out of them, removing your heels along the way. You watch as he pockets the panties with a smile on his face and he quirks an eyebrow. Bob’s staring at your bare pussy like a man starved but you can’t help but giggle.

“Are you seriously about to eat me out wearing a light up Christmas sweater?”

Instead of dignifying you with an answer, Bob licks a fat stripe in between your folds, hoisting one of your legs over his shoulder and forcing you to lean back against your entry way wall.

“Fuck, yeah okay then.” You whimper breathlessly.

Bob seems pleased with your reaction as he continues his ministrations, now kitten licking at your clit. You can feel the cool edges of his glasses hitting your lower stomach and your whole body feels alight with need for the man in front of you. He moves his tongue down to your entrance and dips it in slightly, his nose nudging at your clit. You moan out at the contact, spurring him on further. Bob’s tongue is fucking in and out of you, each time his nose brushes against your clit making you even weaker beneath his touch. Your hands are curled tight in his hair as you feel yourself getting closer and closer.

“Fuck don’t stop, please Robby.”

Bob looks up at you from his position on his knees making you whine much louder than you should have. His hand moves down from its solid grip on your thigh to circle at you clit in tight circles. You’re moaning freely now, hips bucking up erratically. Bob can feel you’re close and he quickens his actions just enough to make you become even more high pitched as you reach you peak. Pleasure washes over you and Bob pulls his tongue away from you to watch you spasm.

“You taste so good darlin,” Bob whines, almost as breathless as you.

You can see your wetness around his mouth and his hard cock straining against his jeans.

“You’re incredible.” You simper, pulling Bob to his feet.

He pulls your lips together, making you moan at the taste of you on his tongue. Pulling away to look up at him, you finally rid yourself of your dress, pulling it up and over your head and dropping it to the floor beside you. You had forgone a bra whilst getting ready, so you stood bare in front of the still fully clothed Bob.

“God,” Bob groans, “You’re fucking amazing.”

“Robert! Your language is dreadful.” You giggle playfully.

He reaches for your hand and brings it down to his aching cock. It twitches beneath your palm which is significantly smaller than his,

“It’s just what you do to me.” He breathes into the side of your neck.

You pull away from him and turn around, making your way to the stairs that lead to your bedroom. Bob watches your figure retreat, focusing his eyes in on the way your hips sway and your ass moves as you walk. You turn your head to the side and beckon for him,

“You coming, Robby?”

Bob is hurriedly ridding himself of his sweater and jeans as he replies,

“Hopefully.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

a/n: CHRISTMAS BOB MY LOVE!!!! there will be more christmas fics for sure bc i am a festive gal tbh. lew lew loml

this is low-key self indulgent af sorry HEHEH

pls comment and reblog or send me an ask and tell me what u think !!

ty for readinggggg :)

- honey <333

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call-me-strega · 7 months

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How to Become a Step-Dad in 5 Easy Steps: part 1

Jason meets Single Dad Danny who is taking care of a de-aged Dani while trying to get his degree at Gotham U. Both of them fall hard, hijinks and shenanigans ensue, simping on both sides.

Edit: background info/lore found here

Edit: part 2 now found here

~~~~

Step 1: Meet an attractive single parent

As a Crime Lord/vigilante Red Hood had multiple safe houses that he used in and out of the mask. Some were for each exclusive identity to prevent anyone from linking them together and others used for both. Currently, Jason was walking out of his 2nd favorite safe house and the mostly permanent residence of “civilian and non-profit worker: Jason Todd” with a plate of cookies and a pan full of lasagna for his new neighbors that moved in two doors down. He may have been a street rat but he’d be damned if Alfred and Talia hadn’t taught him hospitality (it was a fact of life that grandparents and Asian people would try to feed their guests like their honor depended on it). Plus it was a great way to do some reconnaissance on whether or not these new neighbors could potentially pose an issue. The apartment complex was on the border of Crime Alley and Burnley meaning the people who lived there weren’t doing too hot money-wise but were at least able to avoid the worst of Crime Alley. Jason was just planning to go over introduce himself, hand over the homemade food, and head off to a different safe house to get his gear and patrol. However, he was not expecting to see his new neighbor standing outside struggling to open his own door, a six-year-old on his hip, arguing with someone over the phone. The young man had a lean build and appeared to be no older than 20, give or take a year or two. He had black bangs that cast a shadow on his face making his eye-bags appear even darker and startling blue eyes clouded with anger and resentment, likely towards whoever was on the phone. He was so occupied with his conversation he didn’t seem to notice that someone else had stepped into the hallway. He was wearing dark blue jeans and a loose white shirt with a NASA logo on it that slightly hung off his shoulder. He also wore a black hoodie with a white hood and neon green accents that seemed to be subject to his sister(?)’s death grip. Despite his disheveled state, there was something about his new neighbor that drew him in. His aura washed over Jason like a cool breeze on a hot day making it hard for Jason to look away. He would have continued assessing the man if he hadn’t made eye contact with the identical blue eyes of the young girl perched on his hip, who looked at him with a curious sparkle in her eyes. He discreetly turned back around to lock his own door, trying to eavesdrop on the conversation the elder (brother?) seemed to be having. It could provide some info on these new neighbors.

“-shut up Vlad! I’m not moving into your rich guy penthouse! I wouldn’t be taking any of your shady money if I didn’t need child support for Ellie!”

Huh. So her dad/guardian then?

“ Of course I have to do this Vald! What’s the other option, sending her back to a Frootloop like you?! … I’m not going to abandon Ellie for something that wasn’t her choice. She didn’t ask to be created Vlad that’s why she gets a chance.”

Okay so setting aside the rather concerning parts New Neighbor Guy™️ was definitely that child’s parent. Seems fairly rational as well.

“How do I know you’d be a terrible guardian? Plenty of reasons, do you want the list chronologically or alphabetized! You violated me, who you said you wanted to adopt despite me having two living parents, you created Ellie and several other failed attempts without my knowledge, you hid her from me, you tried to teach her to hate me before we even met, you named her Danielle after me instead of giving her her own identity, the list goes on and on Vlad! Do you want me to continue because that’s just the stuff that involves Ellie— I was 14, you middle-aged vampire look-alike! Of course I wasn’t jumping at the chance to become a teen dad! I was a freshman in high school! Besides you know what my parents are like, lab safety regulations were more like a healthy suggestion to them. I was in no position to be taking care of a child!”

Rage flashed in Jason’s eyes as he tightened his grip on his glass Tupperware pan full of lasagna. This conversation was not painting a pretty picture about his neighbor’s situation. He took a deep breath trying to calm himself before belatedly realizing his neighbor had gotten real quiet. He turned around, catching the tail end of his neighbor’s conversation as he finally succeeded in opening the door.

“Whatever Vlad, just keep paying your child support and for Ancients’ sake please stop trying to date my mom. …. Yeah, yeah screw you too Count Chocula.”

The neighbor set his daughter down, likely so she could enter the apartment, and slipped his phone from between his head and shoulder into his hand to hang up on that Vlad guy. Now seemed like as good a time as any to approach. Jason walked up the the young man and coughed trying to get his attention. The young man met Jason’s eyes with a somewhat surprised look. As if he wasn’t unaware of Jason’s presence but hadn’t expected him to talk to him. Jason decided he should start speaking now before things got too awkward.

“Uh- Hi, I’m Jason. I live a few doors down in 357,” he said glancing at the 353 on his neighbors’ door before he continued. “I heard you moving in a few days ago and thought I’d swing by with some food to welcome you to the building.” He stuck out his hand for the other to shake.

“Hi I’m Danny, Danny Nightingale,” he said taking Jason’s hand and ‘Wow his hands are cold’, “ and this little munchkin here is Ellie!” Danny and Ellie flashed him matching smiles like twin suns making Jason's heart melt. He returned their smiles before extending the food to Danny.

“ I don’t know if you’ve had time to get groceries yet but here’s some homemade lasagna if you need a quick meal while you’re getting settled,” he then crouched down to Ellie’s level and stage-whispered in her ear conspiratorially “ and there are some chocolate chip cookies on that plate too.”

Ellie giggled out a thank and threw her arms around Jason’s neck, giving him a quick hug before letting go and dashing into the apartment. Jason watched her go, stunned but feeling warm and fuzzy inside. He turned his attention back to Danny, who shook his head and huffed amusedly. They made eye contact as Jason rose and realized he was a head taller than the guy. He felt the heat expanding in his chest and crawling up his neck, curling behind his ears. He decided now that Ellie had gone in it would be a good time to talk to Danny about what he overheard.

“ So it really wasn’t my intention to do so but I overheard some of that conversation you were having over the phone earlier,” he watched Danny’s smile drop a bit as he winced. Jason awkwardly brought up his hand to scratch the back of his neck and continued.

“ Look I don’t wanna insert myself into your situation but if you ever need help I’m just a few doors down. And if that guy gets pushy or stops sending his child support I can help you find a couple of avenues you can take. Plus, although we’re technically outside Red Hood’s territory I’m sure he wouldn’t mind extending protection over you like he does for the other Crime Alley folk if ya really need it.”

Danny’s face smoothed out looking a bit flushed and appreciative as he went on. He gave Jason a small smile and replied, “ Thank you for the offer. I really do appreciate it. Might just take ya up on it at some point. As for Red Hood? I think I’ll avoid needing the protection of a crime boss vigilante if I can help it. Don’t worry too much about Vlad though. I’ve got him handled currently and he’ll behave if he knows what’s good for him!” Danny smiled threateningly towards the end of his reassurance. (‘His canines are peaking out that’s so cute’)

Jason chuckled with Danny as their eyes locked once more. They stayed lost in each others’ eyes for what seemed like hours before they heard a thump followed by a small “oof” coming from inside the apartment. Danny turned to the door and called out to Ellie,

“Ellie, what was that? Are you okay”

“I’m fine! My shirt just fell!”

“That sounded heavier than a shirt?”

“I was in it!”

Danny sighed, shaking his head before turning to Jason once more.

“Thank you again for the food, any chance you’d like to come in and have something to drink?”

“Thanks for the offer but I’ll have to decline. I need to start heading out for work.”

“Well then, I shouldn’t keep you. I’d hate to make you late for work.” He waved goodbye as Jason nodded his head and started walking down the hall.

His neighbors seemed entirely harmless he decided as he walked away. ‘The kid was cute’ he thought to himself. A smaller voice from the back of his head that sounded vaguely like the Pits chimed in ‘Her dad was even cuter.’

~~~~~ Please let me know what you guys think and if you want to see more of this. I thrive on feedback so feel free to leave any notes or comments!

#dc x dp #danny phantom #jason todd #danny fenton #danielle fenton #jason todd x danny fenton #dead on main #single parent au #SingleDad!DannyFenton #de-aged Ellie #long post #fluff #comedy #misunderstandings #How to Become a Step-Dad in 5 Easy Steps #HBSD sounds like a good acronym #Better than HBSD5ES

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softspiderling · 1 year

Text

risk it all | b.r.b

summary: the gym fic™️

pairing: bradley "rooster" bradshaw x reader

warnings: breaking gym etiquette, thirsty reader

word count: 3,4k

author's note: coming back with a bang i guess🤪thanks to jordan, may and sol for the continuous support ily guys.

He was staring.

You thought it was a fluke at first, that he was looking at someone that was standing behind you, but there wasn’t anyone.

You had checked.

Several times.

The moment you realized that he was looking at you, you started sweating profusely. And it wasn’t because of the exercise, even though it was indeed kicking your ass. You weren’t a gym junkie by all means, and you didn’t even know if you were doing the exercise correctly.

About your second rep in, you had enough and lifted your head to meet his gaze head on. His eyebrows shot up in surprise and he had the decency to flush when he turned his eyes away. Letting out a grunt of annoyance, you finished your last rep, picking up your water bottle and taking an angry swig from it. You glared daggers at the man, who had his back turned to you by now and headed to the changing rooms, grabbing your stuff.

“What’s got you all hot and bothered?” Natasha asked when you came home, kicking the door shut behind you.

“There was an asshole at the gym who was staring at me.”

Natasha pulled a face, twisting her hair into a bun, the heat of the stove getting to her.

“You know I keep telling you to come to my gym instead.”

“UGH! I wish I could, but I literally just made a year-long contract with my gym like two months ago,” you groaned, dropping down on the couch like a sack of potatoes. “Couldn’t you have told me about your gym before I made my contract?”

Natasha peaked her head out of the kitchen to laugh at you and you couldn’t even be bothered to glare at her. It was weird how comfortable you were around each other, even though you’ve barely known each other for a month. You had posted an ad online that you were looking for a roommate and after countless interviews with people that were okay-ish, but not really your vibe, you met Natasha at a coffee shop and after bonding over your lactose-intolerance, you offhandedly mentioned you were searching for a roommate.

Yeah.

Admittedly a very weird thing to bond over, but now you always had a carton of oat milk and a carton of coconut milk in your fridge and a very cool roommate.

“Well, then you gotta power through it. I’m sure you won’t see him again, and if you do, don’t hesitate to confront him, babe,” Natasha said, ever the strong woman. “Now go shower, you stink. Dinner is ready soon.”

She disappeared back into the kitchen and you forced yourself up, dragging a hand over your face, your hair sticking to your sweaty forehead. You always liked to think that you were as strong as she was, but all your bravado usually left you as soon as you opened your mouth.

You just hoped you wouldn’t see him again, so you didn’t have to confront him at all.

The next time you were at the gym, it was about two weeks later and you had completely forgotten about the guy. Over the past week, it had gotten unbearably hot and you couldn’t find the strength to go to the gym to sweat even more so you gave yourself a time off until it cooled down again. It wasn’t exactly chilly, but at least it wasn’t that humid in the gym. The gym wasn’t packed as it usually was around this time, so it didn’t take you long to get through your workout. When you sat down on one of your last machines, you tensed slightly when you saw him right across from you, doing weighted pull-ups.

To your annoyance, you realized that he was hot.

Like, really hot.

The shirt he was wearing was thin and white, miles of defined muscle just underneath, His arms were huge, biceps straining as he pulled himself up and then lowered himself again. With a grunt he dropped down from the bars and you quickly averted your gaze, getting busy with your own weights. When you were all done, you straightened up your back and started the exercise, seeing how he was standing basically straight across from you, slightly to the left.

Opting to just stare into the mirror on the other side of the wall, you could still see him looking at you out of the corner of your eyes. You couldn’t help it, but for a split second, you glanced over to him. Unlike the last time, he actually held your gaze and until you turned away, your cheeks turning red.

God, what a fucking dick.

You dropped the weights with a loud thunk, reaching for your phone.

roomie one: that fucking douchebag is here again

roomie two: Gym starer?

roomie one: … yes

roomie two: Get him!

roomie one: i’m not going to confront him in the middle of the gym

roomie two: Well, he’d deserve it.

The timer on the chest press indicated that your resting time was over, so you put your phone away. getting back to your workout. While you had been texting Natasha, gym starer had gotten back on the bar, his back to you. Small beads of sweat started to form on the nape of his neck, running down the back of the straining shirt that stretched across his shoulders every time he flexed his arms to pull himself up.

After a while, you realized that you had done way more reps than you were supposed to, your muscles aching in protest. Cursing, you dropped the weights, gently this time, and wiped your face with your towel. Lifting your head, you could see that he was looking at you again and since you didn’t want to be that creepy person who stared at someone else in the gym, like he kept doing, you decided it was enough for the day and went to the locker rooms. Luckily, no one was in there, so you leaned your head against the cold metal of the lockers, letting out a frustrated scream.

“Cut your workout short?”

Wordlessly, you held your hand up, shutting the front door behind you, too annoyed with yourself to talk, and Natasha raised an eyebrow at you, putting her book away. Dropping your gym bag on the floor, you took a seat at the dining table and laid your head down.

“He’s hot,” you muttered against the wooden surface.

“I didn’t understand a thing.”

With a long sigh, you lifted your head, looking at Natasha with a pout. “Gym starer. He’s hot.”

“Ah, so now he’s not the creepy gym starer anymore,” Natasha snorted, putting her feet on the coffee table and you glared at her. Because she was right. Screw double-standards.

“God, you should’ve seen him,” you moaned, covering your face with your hands. “His arms are huge. And his shirt was so thin, I could basically see through the fabric and ugh-”

Natasha pulled a face. “Gross.”

“Shut up. Not everyone can like women,” you huffed, standing up. “I need to take a shower.

“Yeah you do, you’re dripping all over the floor.”

“Jesus, Tash,” you exclaimed and Natasha only cackled at you as you headed to the bathroom to grab a shower, hoping to wash this dirty feeling away. While you stood under the stream of the water, you let out a sigh. You could not develop a crush on gym starer. That would be against your principles and it would be just, really fucking inconvenient.

Unfortunately you weren’t one of those girls who got cute gym sets and looked like they just walked out of a Lululemon ad. Instead, you wore the most basic black running tights with a random sports bra and your hair ALWAYS stuck to your sweaty forehead, no matter how you wore it. And it was fine with you, because you weren’t going to the gym to pick up guys, you went there to stay fit and challenge yourself.

But a gym crush? No thanks.

Toweling your wet hair, you exited the bathroom, leaving the door open so the warm air could escape. You plopped down on the couch next to Natasha and crossed her arms, looking at you in amusement.

“Have you ever thought about why he’s staring at you?”

“He’s probably laughing at me because I’m doing the exercise all wrong. Or because I sweat so much.”

“Or he’s into you?”

“And that’s why he’s staring at me?” you scoffed, draping the towel around your shoulders, tugging it from both ends. “He’s probably just like one of those weird gym rat bros who judges everyone who doesn’t go to the gym every day. I mean, he’s fucking ripped, Tash.”

“I know, you already said that!” Natasha groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I’m heading out for drinks with my squadron soon. Do you want to come along? Maybe you can find someone hot who will take your mind off of gym starer.”

“I doubt it. Maybe next time, Tash. Thanks for the invitation, though.”

You exhaled as you pushed through the last reps of your first set, your legs trembling. It took you a few days until you dared to go back to the gym. You were terrified you’d get caught staring at gym starer (oh the irony in that phrase), but when you were certain that you’d forgotten what he had looked like, you packed your bag and went to the gym.

Relaxing your legs, you lifted them out of the machine when, out of the corner of your eye, you saw someone standing next to you. Pausing, you glanced at him, just to see gym starer looking at you. His mouth was moving, but the music from your headphones was too loud. Holding up your finger, he pressed his lips together until you tugged the headphones out of your ears.

“Sorry, what were you saying?”

“Um…” Gym starer paused, his cheeks red. “I- uh… I wanted to know how much longer you’re gonna take on the leg press.”

“Oh. Uh, two more sets?”

“... Okay,” he said, pausing like he wanted to add something, but then quickly turned on his heel, walking away.

Furrowing your brows, you put your headphones back into your ears. Weird. As you shifted your weight in the seat, you looked to the right, doing a double take when you saw the other leg-press, unoccupied.

“What the fuck,” you muttered to yourself, leaning your hands on your legs. When you left the gym twenty minutes later, gym starer was nowhere to be seen.

A few days later, you were lounging on the couch, catching up with some of your favorite tv shows. You needed a break from the gym, at least until you’d get your thoughts sorted. You didn’t know how he did it, but whenever you walked into the gym he was there, even though your gym routine was pretty irregular. Just as the credits of the latest Suits episode started rolling, Natasha suddenly barged into the apartment, making you jump.

“Jesus, what the hell?”

“I’m heading to the bar with my squadron, do you want to come with me?”

You sighed, burrowing deeper into the couch. “I don’t know… I’m so comfy. And I don’t even know anyone there.”

Natasha gave you a look, leaning her hands into her hips, which could only mean that you were about to get a lecture from her. You gulped.

“You don’t know anyone because you always turn me down whenever I ask you to come out, seriously! I am not accepting a no.”

“Fine, okay,” you huffed with wide eyes, raising your hands in defense. “Just let me get changed, I guess.” With a nod, Natasha disappeared into the bathroom while you headed to your bedroom to get changed, reluctantly. While you were miffed that your plans of staying in had been thrown over, you respected Natasha enough to admit that she was right. Half an hour later, a cab dropped you off at the beach, in front of a small bar aptly called the Hard Deck.

“Hey, is this like, a Navy bar?” you asked Natasha with a frown as you walked through the door.

“Yeah. I did tell you that we were getting drinks with my squadron.”

Letting your eyes roam when you got inside, you noticed that almost everyone was dressed in uniform, one way or another, but luckily, there were some people dressed in civvies, so you wouldn’t stick out like a sore thumb. You stopped mid-walk, when you saw him, narrowing your eyes.

Gym starer. Because of course he’d be here.

God was just pulling on all the strings in your life and laughing at you like you were his personal entertainment. It took gym starer a few seconds to spot you, but when he did, he basically spat out his beer all over the counter.

“Jeez Bradshaw, what’s gotten into you?”

Natasha laughing, having rounded the bar, standing behind gym starer and clapping him on the back and while you gaped at her.

“You know him?”

Gym starer - Bradshaw, or whatever - was coughing, his cheeks flaming red as Natasha raised an eyebrow at you.

“He flies with me. Bradley Bradshaw- Rooster’s in my squadron.”

“He’s gym starer.”

“I’m what?”

“Ew,” Natasha only said, looking Bradley up and down, clearly unhappy with him. “Do you not know gym etiquette?”

“I wasn’t staring!” Bradley protested. “I mean, maybe I was, but I didn’t mean to. I swear.”

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I need a drink,” you muttered, moving over to the bar to flag down the bartender. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Natasha berating Bradley and him scowling at her, a bit miffed, before she rolled her eyes at him.

“Hey, what can I get you?”

Turning your eyes away, you looked at the smiling bartender.

“Gin and tonic?”

The bartender gave a brief nod, and went on to mix your drink, handing it to you after you slapped a ten dollar bill on the counter. You sipped your drink through the small black straw, relaxing slightly as the liquid burned in your throat. Your relaxation was cut short however, when you realized Bradley was walking towards you, rubbing the back of his neck bashfully. Taking another long sip, hoping the liquid courage would help you out of this incredibly awkward situation, you raised your chin to look at him.

“I, uh. Was made aware that I might’ve come across as creepy,” Bradley said, his cheeks still pink.

“You think?”

Bradley winced. “I’m really sorry. I don’t like to bother people during their workout, but I just didn’t know how I was supposed to start talking to you. And when I finally got the courage to approach you, you kind of shut me down.”

You narrowed your eyes in confusion, trying to think back when he came up to talk to you in the gym.

“Wait… You mean when you asked me how many sets I had left?”

You didn’t think it was possible, but Bradley flushed an even deeper pink as he nodded.

“Yeah… I actually kind of asked you out, but you didn’t hear me, so I just felt weird and made up a lame excuse.”

“Wait, what?”

Bradley chuckled nervously, and you only stared at him in disbelief. So Natasha was right. Now it was your turn to blush

“I didn’t realize,” you explained and Bradley waved his hands around, giving you an embarrassed smile.

“Don’t worry about it, seriously. I’m sorry, again. I understand that you’re not interested, I am not here to pester you or anything, I just wanted to apologize.” Bradley turned to leave, but you stopped him, grabbing his arm.

“I didn’t say I wasn’t interested!” You protested, making Bradley turn back to you, the corner of his mouth ticking up in a grin.

“Yeah?”

You let go of his arm, rolling your eyes a bit. It was comical how quickly his facial expressions could change.

“Why don’t we start over?” Bradley asked, offering his hand. “I’m Bradley Bradshaw, nice to meet you.”

Zoe straightened her back after she adjusted her weights, letting her gaze wander through the gym. It wasn’t extremely busy and there were just a few people working out. She didn’t usually like coming to the gym after work, because she usually couldn’t get herself to leave her apartment after she got home. Today however, work was so crazy that Zoe had to release her stress somewhere, so gym it was. Zoe’s eyes stopped on the brunet guy when doing a double take when she noticed that his gaze was set on you and she could literally feel her eye twitch.

She didn’t really know you, but she’s seen you around the gym sometimes when you were working out, always by yourself. The guy didn’t really seem too focused on his workout as he kept his eyes steady on you and Zoe bristled. Sometimes she really hated men.

Zoe tried to channel all her anger in her workout, while still keeping an eye on you just in case. Throughout her workout, she wasn’t able to keep her eyes on you for the whole time, but when she got into the changing rooms and saw you packing your bag, she sighed in relief.

Shooting you a small smile, Zoe grabbed her bag and her jacket and headed outside, stopping in the doorway when she saw him waiting by the door. He looked up from his phone, looking at her puzzled when she only glared at him and turned on her heel to head back inside, the door falling shut in its hinges. She walked towards you, waiting until you looked up before she spoke.

“Hey, I’m Zoe,” she said and you introduced yourself as well, if a bit bewildered.

“I’m sorry, I know we don’t know each other at all, but there’s this weird guy hanging around outside the changing rooms. We could walk to the parking lot together.”

“What?” you asked, confused and Zoe took a deep breath, laughing nervously.

“Um, there was this guy who kept staring at you while you worked out? I don’t know if you noticed, but he was pretty focused on you. He’s standing right outside the changing rooms like a creep.”

You blinked at her before your facial expression completely changed, as you burst out in laughter. Now Zoe was very confused.

“Oh, please this is too funny. It’s really sweet of you, but I’m okay, really. He’s my boyfriend,” you explained and Zoe flushed.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry!”

“Don’t worry about it,” you said with a laugh. “He’s a bit dense sometimes. Come on, I’ll introduce you.”

You swung your bag over your shoulder and Zoe had no choice but to follow you, even though she willed the ground to open up and swallow her whole. When you opened the door, your boyfriend slipped his phone into his pocket, surprised to see Zoe following you closely.

“Hey, everything okay?” he asked as you only snickered, shaking your head at him.

“Babe, this is Zoe. Zoe, this is my boyfriend, Bradley,” you introduced them, and Zoe could only plaster on a smile, while Bradley shook her hand, looking at you a bit lost. “Zoe thought you were creepy because you were staring at me the whole time like a creeper.”

“Oh,” Bradley muttered dumbly, his cheeks tinging pink. “Sorry, bad habit of mine. But thank you for looking out for my girl,” he told Zoe and she laughed nervously.

“Sure. We girls gotta look out for each other, right?”

“‘course. Hey, when are you coming here next?” You asked and Zoe shrugged with her shoulders.

“I’m not sure yet.”

You reached for your phone, holding it out to her. “We could go together, if you want? I’ll leave Bradley at home if we do, I promise.”

Bradley only groaned, turning his face away and your face was split open in a big grin, so Zoe only smiled as she punched her number into your phone, before handing it back to you.

“Great, I’ll text you, okay,” you promised, putting your phone away. “It was really nice meeting you Zoe.”

“It was nice meeting you too, bye.”

Bradley only waved his hand in wordless goodbye as you left, his arm wrapping around your waist. As you walked out, Zoe could hear the beginnings of your conversation.

“-you. It’s creepy and clearly, I’m not the only one who thinks that!”

“I’m sorry! You know I want to focus on my workout, but you keep distracting me, especially when you wear those leggings…”

a/n: i like to think that while bradley does have game, he can be quite dense sometimes hehe. i hope you liked it!

taglist: @littlebadariell // @labellapeaky // @solacestyles // @shaded-echoes // @madielake // @diorrfairy // @luckyladycreator2 // @ssaic-jareau // @xoxabs88xox // @averyhotchner // @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 // @tiredqueen73 // @alexxavicry // @classyunknownlover

#bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader

1K notes · View notes

redr0sewrites · 25 days

Note

Ok i really liked your aftercare headcanon with Lucifer and i was wondered if could do same for Adam? cuz i pretty sure that this guy doesn't know that such thing exist lol

YESSSS!!!! i love putting adam in Situations™️ where he gets over his weird toxic masculinity bs for reader

🥀Cw: implied/mentioned sex, fluff, cleanup, soft adam

the first few times you and adam are intimate he definitely struggles with aftercare

your probably his first relationship in a while, and he's not good at pillow talk or anything soft post-sex

however, adam does want to try for you, and while he will be a little awkward at first, over time he gets the hang of it

once you two are finished adam will collapse besides you, pressing a kiss to your temple and cuddling close. you both stay like this for at least a few minutes before you get up to start cleaning

the first few times you guys had sex, adam would always ask where you were going/what you were doing and basically learned by watching you

adam would totally be the type to run you both a bath, filling it with soaps and watching the bubbles form

he's also not the type to get icked out by stains or fluids or anything like that, so he can also handle cleanup duty

while adam can clean and get everything situated, he doesn't want to. adam definitely prefers to just cuddle you and keep you close after sex, and after especially long nights, he'll be too fucked out to do much and will just hover close to you while you cleanup

honestly you don't mind, you see that he's trying and learning about proper aftercare is a slow but steady process

you see, aftercare builds a lot of trust, and is a way to undo anything harsh done during sex. adam was quite literally created to have sex and populate the earth, and he doesn't usually associate sex with comfort. aftercare becomes very important to him once he sees how important it is to you, and he genuinely wants to treat you with respect

once you both have been thoroughly washed and the bed has been cleaned, adam is practicing attatched to you. he's clinging to you like theres no tomorrow, and most of the time he won't even give a reason (but deep down it's because he's a little afraid you'll just get up and leave)

adam loves when you praise him during aftercare and adores hearing you talk about all the things you enjoyed about the night. everything he did right, what makes you feel good, etc. he also wants input about what you may not have liked, adam wants to pleasure you as best as possible and during aftercare is when he's more willing to discuss your do's and don'ts of sex

you and adam definitely had a pre-sex conversation about kinks and safewords and all those important things, but during aftercare is when he's much more open about stuff that may be more embarrassing to admit outside of the soft, post-orgasmic haze that fills his mind during aftercare

adam adores admiring you and your body during aftercare. he loves seeing the marks he left on you, and will memorize every curve and crease of your body. adam actually enjoys nonsexual nudity during aftercare as it gives him an excuse to hold your bare body close to him

as previously mentioned, adam loves when you praise his performance during sex, but he also definitely enjoys it when you praise his body as well- it definitely raises his ego

adam also doles out his fair share of praise, and makes sure you know how much he enjoys being witb you intimately

ADAM LOVES WHEN YOU WEAR HIS CLOTHES DURING AFTERCARE TOO. you throw on one of his oversized band shirts because you're too tired to get into real pajamas? he's tackling you in a hug and engulfing you in cuddles on the spot

adam, surprisingly enough, gives pretty good massages. his hands are literally huge and very skilled (get ur mind out of the gutter ik what yall r thinking) which comes to use a lot during aftercare and massages.

his voice also gets a lot huskier after sex, kinda like morning voice, he's just much more tired and relaxed. if you ask him to, adam may be willing to sing to you as you drift to sleep, but don't you DARE mention it outside of the bedroom or he'll turn bright red and deny it

adam's chest heaved as he collapsed besides you on the bed, the mattress shifting you towards him as the cushion adjusted to the additional weight. "adam," you murmur, gently running your hand through his hair as he nuzzles into your chest. "you okay? was i too rough t'night?" adam chuckles, his voice low and raspy as he replies, "nah, you were fine. what about me, was i too hard on you? how d'you feel, doll?" adams voice slurs slightly as he presses a few kisses to your collarbone, his short beard tickling you and causing you to giggle. adam looked up at you, hearts practically forming in his eyes as he watched your face crinkle in amusement at his tussled hair and sleep mussed expression.

"im okay, maybe a little sore," you reply, and adam shoots you a cheesy wink. you give him a light slap on the shoulder before turning to wriggle out of his grasp, much to your lovers dismay. "where'r you headed?" adam pouts, looking up at you with furrowed brows. "i am going to go start cleaning," you reply, moving to get out of bed. adam grumbles, but follows suit, rolling out of bed and following you to the bathroom. you can't help but smile as you watch him nonchalantly begin to start setting up the bathtub, turning on the running water and getting out towels for the both of you. you quickly replace the bedding of your shared mattress and put the dirty sheets in the wash for you to deal with in the morning. once you returned to the bathroom, a pleasant steam had filled the room and adam was placing bath bombs into the tub. "i figured we could make it fancy", he mumbled, turning away as you smirked. "it's NOT like i like them or anything, its just stupid bubbles..." adam huffs and you giggle, pressing a kiss to his cheek before getting into the tub. adam sighs, grumbling as he joins you. "y'know i love you, right?" you whisper, moving to sit with your back to his chest. " 'course. i love ya too, toots,"

i love him i love him i love him i love him sm- i really love soft adam even if it's slightly ooc i feel like if he was with someone he really trusted enough to let his guard down with he could be a total sweetheart. it would take time ofc, but i genuinely don't think he's a horrible person at heart (im delulu :)

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meowzfordayz · 9 months

Text

shiny

Author’s Note: sooo this was supposed to be for a college au, secretly dating trope suggestion (as well as for an emergency request for fluff 😅)… but then The H*rny™️ hit 🥴, and uhh, it turned into its own lil thing. 😏

shiny

Shinazugawa Sanemi x Reader

Word Count: ~2,200

CW: 18+NSFW, cream!pie, explicit language, Fem!Reader

~faqs~

“Sanemi, don’t you think she’s a little out of your league?”

Obanai’s stern tone does little to soften the reality behind his question, Sanemi once more reminded of why he can only watch—can only yearn—from a safe distance of ten physical feet, five invisible rungs on the social ladder, and one gigantic she-doesn’t-even-know-I-exist problem.

“Nobody’s out of my league,” Sanemi mutters, glare darkening with his trademark scowl, “She’s just shiny, is all. I’m easily distracted.”

“And that’s why you ignore me whenever she happens to be at the same dining hall as us,” Obanai snorts.

“Fuck-” Sanemi’s fork scrapes across his plate.

Raising an eyebrow, Obanai continues, “And also why you terrified those women away from their table.”

“-off,” fork stabbing loudly at his dry chicken.

“That just happened to be across from where she was sitting.”

“I said-” tearing sloppily into the overcooked meat.

Mask stretching as Obanai grins, he makes his final push, “And forgot to eat your food after she made eye contact with you.”

Mouth full, words muffled, “-f’ck ‘ff!”

“If nobody’s out of your league, then why don’t you say,”—in a breathy, squeaky voice—“Hi, I’m Sanemi!”

Swallowing his bite in a single motion, “I don’t talk like that,” Sanemi glowers, “Besides, shiny things lose their sparkle the moment you touch them.”

“Whatever man,” Obanai scoffs, “Shiny things also tend to hate crude assholes.”

“I’ll crude your fucking asshole.”

Eyes rolling, Obanai switches gears, “So Mitsuri and I-”

Only to be promptly interrupted, fork waved aggressively in his direction, “Don’t fucking start on your goddamn perfect love life.”

“Perfect?” Obanai huffs, whining now, “Dude, you know how long it took for-”

“If this is supposed to be a roundabout pep talk or offering of love advice,” Sanemi stands, half finished plate in one hand, steel grip around his glass with the other as he tilts his head back to chug the remainder of his lemonade, “Just fucking don’t.”

Waiting in lines isn’t your strong suit, fingernails rapidly tapping your lukewarm plate, droplets of water glistening under the too familiar lighting of the dining hall. You’d already scratched off the faint remains of someone else’s lunch, not bothering to search for a new, cleaner plate — they all had some sort of residue. Lifting your gaze to survey the people ahead of you, you’re immediately hindered by the tall, broad stature of a white haired man, the tension in his back muscles emphasized by the tightness of his moss green shirt. Sighing quietly, you notice his neck twitch, the curve of his biceps discernible as his arms—presumably—cross in front of him.

“Hey,” you say, chatter, clang, and hiss of lunchtime swallowing your attempt to get his attention, “Hellooo.”

Somehow, his biceps flex harder, fabric of his shirt’s armholes stretching to accommodate his strength.

“Um, alright,” you mutter, refocusing on your plate, fingernails returning to their tapping, “Never mind, I guess-”

“If you want, you can cut me.”

You blink, vision flashing to the Beautiful purple eyed man turning around to face you.

“Are they real?” you gush, cheeks warming, eyes squeezing shut before you can process any shame.

“Pardon?” a teasing, incredulous lilt lingers in his voice, “I can see, if that’s what you’re-”

“No, like, are they contacts?”

If it wouldn’t hammer the final nail on your coffin of embarrassment, you’d slap yourself right then and there.

“Open your eyes,” he speaks softer now, “I’m not wearing contacts.”

Eyes opening sheepishly, you stick out your free hand, “Nice to meet you, I apologize, you probably get the eyes thing a lot,” they’re too pretty for you to not.

“I’m Sanemi,” he responds evenly, your hand untouched as his jaw clenches, “Are you going to cut me or not?”

“Or not,” you reply quickly, nose scrunching as you glance away, hand dropping limply, “I can wait.”

“Your incessant tapping suggests otherwise,” he—Sanemi—grunts, “If you’re not gonna cut me, then at least be less annoying to everyone else in line.”

You snort, “Are you usually this combative?” pointedly ignoring his jab.

“Usually, I don’t offer up my spot in line.”

“So does that mean I’m special,” you grin now, eyes glittering at the way his brow furrows, “Or just extra annoying?”

“Extra annoying,” he deadpans, “Definitely extra.”

With a friendly pout, you lapse into silence, shuffling forward an insignificant amount, inwardly cursing whoever poorly planned the university budget to short staff the dining halls.

“Y’know, you look familiar.”

Sanemi shrugs, back turned once more to you, shoulder blades rippling with the motion, “Makes sense.”

“What, am I not original enough for you?” you grumble, cheeks warming again as he whips around to glare at you.

“Why are you talking to me?”

“I don’t know!” you exclaim, “To be nice? To be annoying? Because I’m bored and hangry and this line seems to go on for forever?!”

Lips twitching, he slowly gestures in front of him, still glaring, “Cut me.”

“No!”

“You’re ridiculous.”

Before you can protest, he maneuvers himself behind you, impatience radiating from his body, lean muscles barely grazing your bare arms, goosebumps raising when he crosses his own, the view so much more defined from your new perspective. You’re too busy memorizing his physique to notice his reaction to your careful attention; too busy uttering his name under your breath, committing it to heart, to see the blush creep up his collarbones, his neck, his earlobes; too busy finally getting food to catch him opening, closing, then opening his mouth, a hushed And what’s your name? caught beneath hesitation and loneliness.

“Thanks Sanemi,” you say, waving cheerfully, “Maybe I’ll see you around?”

His response falters in his throat as he watches you leave, gaze swiveling to eventually—reluctantly—make eye contact with Obanai. Good effort! Obanai gives him a thumbs up, just as Sanemi groans lowly, flipping him off.

“Sanemi,” you whisper, fingertips walking warmly across his scars, smooth and sensitive to the touch, his breath catching at the light pressure, “Promise me you were sober.”

Body vibrating with quiet laughter, he catches your hand, lips gentle and wet as he kisses each of your fingertips, “I don’t drink,” eyes flitting over to your haphazardly tossed clothing, “And you?”

“I had one,” you murmur, lifting yourself to roll atop him, straddling his waist, thighs sweaty and soft, heat stirring in his groin at the familiar position, “Way before you arrived.”

“Waited for me, hm?” he chuckles smugly, gripping your hips, kneading into your skin, a strangled hiss tightening his lungs as his cum leaks from your slippery folds to his stomach, “Didn’t think I’d see you at a party like this.”

“And I didn’t think you threw parties,” you quip back, reveling in the filthy squelch of your languid grinding, his rigid abdominals flexing shiny and divine against the bump of your clit, “Till your roommate introduced himself, invited me over,” draping yourself over his chest, tits heavy and warm on his sternum, voice promising and heady in his ear, “I didn’t think I’d be getting fucked tonight.”

“Me neither,” Sanemi rasps, cockhead swollen and smearing precum against the plush of your ass, erect again, “Didn’t think you’d show up on my doorstep,” grasping your jaw to present your neck to his bared teeth, nipping greedily, “Looking so fucking gorgeous, like you were begging for someone to devour you,” tongue swiping flat and messy at the hollow of your throat, his hips bucking upward for friction, “Good thing I found you first, hm? Good thing I got to your pretty mouth, to your beautiful cunt, before some other fuck.”

“Sanemi,” you whimper, tugging your head down slightly, just slightly enough to see the dangerous, hazy glint in his purple stare, “W-wasn’t here to f-fuck anyone.”

“But you did, didn’t you?” he teases lightly, releasing your jaw with a final, tender kiss to your chin, “Had me wrapped around your finger the moment I saw you, laughing with your friends in the dining hall, that incredible smile of yours knotting my stomach,” swallowing thickly, dangerous edge fading as quickly as it surfaced, feather soft confession taking its place, “I must’ve become absolutely insufferable,” snorting amusedly, “If Obanai intervened.”

“I forgot to tell you my name,” you admit sheepishly, beginning your own parade of sloppy, heated kisses across the sheen of his collarbones, exertion from his first orgasm still evident, “Thought I missed my shot,” reaching behind you for his cock, deft thumb circling his tip, grinning at his unabashed moan, “Wondered how I could possibly recover from such an encounter with your mesmerizing hair and brilliant eyes,” winking playfully as you squeeze his cock, earning a halfhearted scowl, “Your gentlemanly gesture of saving me from my hanger.”

“Want to feel you again,” is your only warning, and then he’s bullying his cock between your folds, whining sharply as his tip nudges in, rhythm shallow and wanton, gradually stuffing himself further and further into your honeyed, dripping hole, “Fuck,” he grits out, your ass so perfect and weighted atop him, “You feel so fucking good.”

“Is this all you want?” you ask quietly, question nearly lost in the broadness of his chest, pussy clenching tight and overwhelmed around him.

“This?” he manages to scoff, his exasperated, adoring eyes meeting your unsteady, wide gaze, “‘Course not, I want to get to know you, your favorite color, how you look in the morning, what buttons I can push, when to say I’m sorry,” repetitive, gentle grunts underlying his reassurance as he continues thrusting torturously slow, “I’ve got a devastating crush on you, you idiot, so why the fuck would this be all I want?”

“Well you did just call me an idiot,” you giggle, back arching into his movements, his eyes glimmering at the display of your breasts.

He huffs, “Learn it or hate it, but s’my love language.”

“I’m thoroughly enjoying this love language,” you drawl, grabbing onto his shoulders, sweat trickling shiny and subtle as you readjust yourself, “I guess I could adapt to ~odd pet names too.”

As Sanemi’s pace hastens, second climax coaxed harsh and unrelenting from your body, he slips one hand from your hip to your sex, palm pressing strong and intense on your clit, the most stunning wail tearing feral and needy across his bedroom as you cum on his cock, thighs squeezing the air from his lungs, fingernails digging deeply into his shoulders, neck faintly mottled with the aftermath of his love biting.

Sunlight glows weakly through his blinds, the quiet pulse of your breaths preventing Sanemi from wiggling even an inch, too afraid of shattering the stillness of his dream. Your leg’s slotted comfortable and trusting between his own, fingers pressing soft dots into his chest, a sensation he wishes he could bottle for a rainy day. Thankful for his lack of drinking, and thus, lack of a hangover, his eyes blink closed, basking in the recollection of your unexpected passion, the shine of moonlight on your naked figure, the curve of your smile, hot and welcoming against his mouth.

“So how do I look in the morning?”

Your sleepily murmured question startles him, the uptick in your breathing having gone unnoticed, too deep in his reminiscence. Head tilting to better see you, he smirks fondly, gaze more serene without the exhaustion of the day settled in yet.

“Like you just woke up,” he says nonchalantly, nevertheless breaking into an endeared smile, muscular arm tugging you closer to him, so close you can see the flecks of muted silver in his irises.

“Hm, thank gosh it’s Saturday,” you yawn, limbs stretching in his embrace, toes finding purchase on his ankles, “I definitely did not set an alarm.”

“What dumbass would throw a party on a weekday?”

“Not you,” you retort sweetly, dramatically batting your eyelashes, “You’re not a dumbass.”

“Fuck you,” he mumbles.

“Already?” you wink lazily, “Don’t men have a refractory period or something?”

“I only came once last night,” he nearly pouts, hiding his expression in your sunwarmed hair.

“Right,” you chuckle, tender memories of being carefully wiped clean, and then snuggling into him, promptly passing out, floating contentedly through your vision, “You’re amazing.”

“Amazing enough to do this again?” his voice hardens, somehow moving further from you even as his body doesn’t move.

“Didn’t I already ask you that?” you reply gently.

“Yeah.”

Nose crinkling, you poke at his cheek, humming confidently, “I may not have had a devastating crush on you, but I obviously I like you, idiot.”

“Yeeeah,” he sighs.

“So we’re doing this again,” you remark plainly.

“Good,” he finally grins.

“Good,” you grin.

“Ugh,” he scowls, pretending to push you away, only to quickly pull you back into his embrace, pulse thrumming at the momentary distance.

“You weren’t saying that earlier,” you singsong, lightly tucking a longer strand of his hair behind his ear, cooing at its immediate redness, “You think Obanai heard us?”

“Fuck,” Sanemi grimaces, suddenly dreading his next conversation with his best friend.

“Poor guy,” you laugh, tone laced with mock sympathy, “Probably regrets inviting me.”

Shrugging, Sanemi pecks your forehead, voice gravelly as he mutters, “Nah, fuck him.”

#sanemi shinazugawa #shinazugawa sanemi #sanemi x reader #shinazugawa x reader #wind hashira #one shot #college au #demon slayer smut #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer

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rosewaterandivy · 5 months

Text

1.01 - Notes on a Scene

summary: a meet-fuck cute courtesy of The Hideout.

pairing: teacher!eddie x fem!reader

w.c.: 3.6k

warnings: modern! AU / 18 + no minors! / eddie is in his early 30s, in the tkaa timeline, this is set about two years after the epilogue, hook ups, fwb, Eddie being a menace, my usual filth™️

a/n: an Eddie-centric companion series to the kids aren’t alright. it’s not necessary to read the previous series, but there are certain plot points and characters that will be making an appearance here as well.

nota bene: feedback is always appreciated— reblogs, comments, likes, etc.— but reposting is not. Enjoy! 💜

series m.list | playlist | currently spinning:

🎵gonna melt the fever sugar, rolling back your eyes🎵

“Hey.” A man says as he scoots into the stool next to you. “Can I buy you a drink?”

You look up and around. The space is dimly lit, brick walls, wooden shelves, a very subtle we don’t give a fuck vibe. There are plenty of women around who are dressed to impress, but he is strangely alert and focused on you. You are sitting perfectly still in denim cutoffs and a t-shirt that has seen better days—grubby house clothes. Even your hair, piled on top of your head screams: go away.

“You look lonely.” He’s dressed in an open green flannel with a crinkled tee underneath, ripped jeans, and dark sunglasses perched on top of his head.

Blinking owlishly, you stare at him some more. This guy has got to be messing with you. You stick the tip of your thumb to your chest. “Me?”

“Yeah. What’ll you have?”

Um. Alone time, maybe? You’re still searching over his shoulder as he says this, stubbornly ignorant of your aloof vibe. You look again toward the door, plotting your escape. Is this guy the type of person to chase you down and stuff you in the trunk of his car? You try to smile.

“I’m uh—I’m ab–”

“Babe!”

A third voice cuts in and then suddenly an arm wraps around your shoulder, “Sorry I’m late, sweetheart.”

Your head turns to regard the rest of its owner and your heart leaps into your mouth. Sumptuous brown eyes encased in dark lashes. Corners lifted by a wide smile. They are looking lovingly down at you, and they are magnificent.

“Uh.” Nice job.

“Uh- you—you were waiting on someone?” The stutter is incredibly pathetic when your first suitor clocks the man with his arm around you. He’s deceptively built, much to your surprise. He’s sturdy too, from what you can tell with his side pressed up against yours.

“Yep. Boyfriend. Good to meet you.” His eyes crinkle at the edges, but there’s no kindness in that look. “Care to fuck off now?”

And fuck off he does. When the man slinks back to his group of buddies who are all snickering at him, you turn to your timely savior, “Thanks…”

“It looked like you might need some help.” He takes his arm back and sinks into the stool next to you. “Just playing the part—I’ll fuck off too in a second.”

You’re still too shocked to mouth off yet as you continue to take in the sight of him at your side. He leans over on his palm, takes a quick look behind your head, and then gives you a wink. “Your man’s turned around. I think you’re safe.”

“Don’t even joke about that.” You mumble, facing him, “That flannel was straight from the nineties.” And then you pause, feeling your mouth-motor whir to life. He’s wearing a black leather jacket. Black shirt. Ripped jeans. Long hair tied back half-way, a slight scruff gracing his jaw. Probably sharp as a knife under that. “You look pretty straight from the nineties too, grunge-boy.”

Beer sprays from where his lips touch the rim of the bottle. He hisses, wiping the dribble from his neck. It takes him another minute of fumbling before all the moisture is off, and you can see the tiniest hint of a blush on his cheeks from where he’s embarrassed himself.

“Where are you coming from?” You ask mischievously, “A Spinal Tap convention?”

“No. I’m a townie, thanks very much.” He crosses his arms. “Just having a drink at my local.”

“Good to know.”

“My roommates…” He pauses to take a drink, “Well, I have a lot of them and they’re all coupled up.” He says plainly, “A man can only take so much.”

“So….” You sing, “You went out to… save helpless chicks from creeps?”

“Mmm,” he makes a show of sizing you up, eyes working slowly down your body. “I think you’re pretty capable of handling yourself, maybe a bit of a priss,” he decides, taking a long pull from his beer as the heat rises in your cheeks.

You want to laugh, but the shit-eating grin on his face doesn’t deserve to be encouraged right now. You can tell already he’s a real wild one, so you push the edges of your mouth down and pretend to find a lot of interest in grabbing your purse instead. “Well, mister, thanks for the saving. See you around.” You’re not above picking up a guy in a bar but why not tease him a little more while you’re at it?

He tucks a stray piece of hair behind his ear and grabs your jacket off the back of the stool. “It’s Eddie.” He says, “My name.”

“Hmm, Edward, nice to meet you.”

“Not a chance,” he says with a roll of his eyes.

“I know what you are,” you continue voice flat, eyes glinting with mischief.

C’mon, someone named Edward who looks like that, there’s no way he’ll take the bait.

His eyes fix on you, playful. “Say it,” he leans closer to you, drowning out the sounds of Joan Jett asking who wants to touch her where. “Out loud. Say it.”

Giving it your best Kristen Stewart, you go for it: “Vampire.”

“Fuck you very much.” He laughs, voice soft against the din of the bar,

You smile and slip the sleeves of your jacket over your arms. “Well, Eddie, thanks for the saving. Bein’ a helpless chick and all, I sure hate it when a fella doesn’t know his place.”

Eddie’s pink tongue darts out to lick his equally pink lips and he hops off the stool, placing a five under his half-full beer. “Can I walk you to your car?” He asks. “You know—dark night, creeps in alleyways and parking lots… Unless it’s not my place… princess.”

Well, that’s just not playing fair.

You laugh, because it’s barely sunset. But the way he’s looking at you makes your blood rise and leak hot magma right into your tummy. What’s the harm, you think, because you’re new in town and you’ll likely never see him again. It’s Friday night.

“No, I suppose it’s not your place.” You pause, watching the disappointed expression on his face. “Eddie–” You pretend to wipe a smudge off the corner of his leather collar, leaning in until it really does look like he’s your boyfriend.

“You’re welcome to come to mine. But no more of this priss business.” You push your lips into an exaggerated pout.

He laughs a joyful noise, tugs his jacket on close to his chest, and follows you out the door.

Your purse is already in your hands, keys swinging around your finger. “If you’ll just—”

“God. Yes. I’ll follow you.”

Eddie tugs you from the driver’s seat of your car, hand entwined with yours as he follows you up the walkway and over the step. Once the front door shuts behind him and you’ve made sure it’s locked, you’re pressed up against the wall, purse, shoes, keys, clattering onto the hardwood.

“Oh, baby,” he mumbles as he presses his face into your collar, scooping you up into his arms. “Oh, Jesus, princess. You’re makin’ me crazy.”

Fuck. How can one person have so much stamina? This guy must be related to the Energizer Bunny. It’s been nearly two hours and he’s propped up against the headboard of your bed, legs spread, pointer finger beckoning you to crawl between them. This is your third (third!) time going at it.

You paw at your face because you are so sweaty. Eddie’s hair is down, strands framing his cheeks, just as wild as he is. Two hours of some of the filthiest talk you’ve ever head, ass-slapping, spit-swapping, hair-pulling, straight-up debauchery.

“This your usual M.O., Eddie, or are you doin’ me a favor?” You ask as your knees nudge him wider apart. Blowing a damp strand from your forehead, you lie down on your stomach and press your mouth to his thigh. “Death by exhaustion.”

“Sexhaustion,” He laughs, then grunts as your lips finds the blunt head of his cock. “You’re still goin’ too.” He comments. “Jesus, girl. Can I call you sometime?”

You hum a vibrating warble and he shudders in delight, “The helpless chicks of Hawkins won’t mind?”

“Pfft.” Then, as easily as he dismisses the idea, Eddie rests his arm on your shoulder before pulling you flush against him. “C’mere.”

There’s something about him that turns you inside out. Easy-going demeanor. Charm and wit. Just fucking gorgeous. It’s a silly little notion from a romanticized one-nighter, but you’re very interested in prolonging the fantasy. You’ll get the best of this, you think, a no-strings attached kind of attachment with someone who makes your body sing. You don’t even want to know his last name—and you don’t tell him yours no matter how many times he asks. You want to know nothing about him other than what you can touch and taste and feel.

And there’s quite a lot of him for all of that. Your hands roam his shoulders and arms, your tongue laps at the sweat on his neck, your tummy tightens when his cock flexes against your hip.

Even if there might be an attachment, the physical distance of him— you have no idea where he lives, would nip that foolishness right in the bud.

Against the backdrop soundtrack of the neighborhood traffic and chatter, you wiggle your way on top and seal your arrangement with a glide of your hips onto his.

Monday morning finds you unpacking in your new classroom at Hawkins High School (home of the Tigers!) and blaring music from your speakers. The tech guy said he’d be around to check the audio levels and load some editing software onto the Macs at some point today, and you’d been killing time ever since.

After meeting with your department head, along with a few other teachers, and getting the lay of the land, you decided to hang a few prints on your walls— you were standing on a table hammering a nail into the wall when you hear voices from the hallway.

“Ooh, this is a vibe!”

Turning to the door, you see two heads precariously poking in and recognize one from the department meeting. Sliding the hammer through a belt loop on your shorts, you step down from the table.

“It’s Robin, right— graphic design?”

The blonde perks up with a smile, “Yeah! How’s it going, need any help?” She steps into your classroom with another woman. “Oh this is Trouble,” she says by way of introduction, “She teaches sophomore English.”

She waves to you with a smile. “I’m digging the aesthetic,” she says, taking in the few things you’ve managed to unpack. “Sick tats, by the way.”

“Oh, uh, thanks.” You grab the frame next to you and step back on the table, “I figured I wouldn’t need to cover them up until school starts so.”

“Pfft, don’t even bother.” Trouble scoffs with a wave of her hand, “We have enough teachers with ‘em so it’s a non-issue.” She steps closer to get a better look at the Drive print near your door.

Robin grabs another frame from the pile, “Where do you want this one?”

Settling the Paprika print against the wall you step back down to see which one she grabbed. “Oh,” you say, eyeing the Midsommar piece in her hands, “That’ll be by my desk, you can set it over there.”

You meet her over there with two nails prized between your teeth. Grabbing a chair you step onto it and briefly check the fastening of the frame before lining up where the nails will be hung. While Robin helps you the other woman, Trouble, continues her perusal.

“Okay,” she says with a clap of her hands, “You have great taste based on your playlist, film choices, and is that—” She tugs at your free arm, “A horror sleeve? Oh my god, you have to meet the gang. They will love you.”

Her enthusiasm is heartening— she turns your arm this way and that, surveying the different films represented in black lines and shading. Robin’s eyes find yours with a mouthed ‘sorry about this’ and you shrug.

“Robs has your number?”

“Uh, yeah.” Your arm becomes your own once more as her fingers stop their tracing of your tattoos.

“Great! We’ll text you the details,” she continues to say, “We’re checking out a new bar in town tonight.” A waggle of her brows, “Rumor has it there’s a mechanical bull.”

A smile breaks across your face, “Well, yee-fuckin’-haw I guess.”

They leave with promises to see you tonight just as the tech guy, Bob, makes his appearance. He greets you politely, asking to check your PC and Mac before moving onto the students Macs. The two of you install and update the computers in your classroom before heading to the sound booth to check the audio ports and software. The rest of your day is spent discussing the finer points of your preferred editing programs and Bob peppering you with questions about the best cameras and equipment for sports broadcasting.

Eddie arrives at six-forty at the bar Trouble had selected for this evening, fittingly called ‘Outlawed.’ He sighs and shoves his hands into his pockets, quickly crossing the parking lot to enter the bar, his mind elsewhere.

It was too good to be true, really. Meeting some girl and fooling around with her and, of course, he can’t help thinking about her. He doesn’t even know her name, he just calls her princess. Sometimes sweetheart, sometimes baby, babygirl, because their little meet-cute at the bar spawned a million different alternatives to choose from.

He’s only seen her once for fuck’s sake, but the way she giggles when he takes off her clothes and how her breath stutters against his mouth is something he thinks about frequently when he’s in bed with his hand down his boxers.

And now, Trouble wants to set him up with some new teacher at school. She’d told him all about it at lunch. “Seriously Eds,” she said, splitting a burger with Steve as a tomato slid from the bun and landed with a splat on her plate. “She’s just your type, cool as hell and takes no shit,” she hands the burger off to Steve, wiping her hands on a napkin. “Had like, fuckin’ nails in her teeth and was just hammering away on there walls while listening to an amazing mix— Portishead, Death Grips,” her eyes turn to him, bright and excited. “Between the Buried and Me, so she’s automatically better than those chicks you’ve been dealing with on the apps.”

Outside, under the final rays of sunshine people are streaming down the sidewalk, couples with arms hooked around each other, pretty girls in heels and guys looking after them. Monday night in the Hawkins, surprisingly buzzing with life and music.

He spots Steve as he walks in and they walk next to each other, dodging people left and right as Steve leads them into the dark space of a bar, cramped more than sardines in a can. Eddie shuffles sideways to squeeze past a couple already a little too frisky for a public setting. It’s hot and sticky inside, and the smell of fried foods and beer permeates through his clothes.

He doesn’t really get the look of it, either. An entirely metal and southern kind of aesthetic, the kind that reminds him of old bleach-blonde, wrinkly and tanned housewives with rhinestones on the back pockets of their jeans, toting puckered alligator purses. There are string lights over the walls, bumper stickers, and license plates, and all manners of slogans about Texas and being a country girl.

Modelo neon lights. Budlight paraphernalia. The bartender is wearing cowboy boots.

Steve orders a six-dollar pitcher of the house draft and Eddie whistles. Okay, he thinks, for six dollars a pitcher—he gets this place.

He waves to Robin and Vickie before pointing over to Trouble’s table but Steve and Eddie take some time to themselves to shoot the shit.

“So, are ya gonna tell me about that girl or what?”

“What else is there to tell, man?” Eddie asks as he licks the froth from his upper lip, hoppy bursts of carbonation stinging his tongue. He’s kept her a secret even from Trouble, but it’s not like there was much he could say other than, “She screwed my brains out and then I left. Nothin’ more to tell.”

Steve nods along.

“I don’t even know her name. Just called her princess or baby all the time. She’s a goddamn wildcat, knew how to ride like it was her job. Great ass, too.” A shudder passes over him as he thinks of the way she would crush him into the bed and grind until lights burst behind his eyelids.

The last few words of their conversation get drowned out by loud cheers and whooping, drawing their attention to a crowd forming behind them. People press up against each other, holding their beer bottles and glasses in the air, cheering and screaming.

“What the hell is that?” Eddie calls to Steve who sits up straight chair to get a peek over the tops of everyone’s heads. “I think it’s a mechanical bull?” He replies, shrugging. “Wanna go look?”

“Might as well.”

Robin catches Steve’s eye and sends him a nearly lethal toothy grin, cocking her head over to the crowd. “Go get her, tiger!” She yells, one hand cupped over the edge of her mouth. Eddie’s grabbed by his arm and dragged along as Steve’s interest peaks.

It’s like a concert mosh pit. Someone splashes their drink next to Eddie’s shoe, and he steps out of the way. When they reach the center of the ring around the perimeter of the stage, Eddie’s heart drops because the face he sees—beaming with joy is attached to a body he knows extremely well. Intimately. Every single inch. Her hips, gyrating in circles as she holds onto the handles of the mechanical bull—he’s seen it. Her hair, flurrying around her face in circles, moving along to the whipping of her body, adjusting with every jerk of the machine—he’s seen that, too.

“I think that’s the one Trouble was goin’ on about.” Steve announces. “Jesus, how is she doin’ that?”

Eddie is wide-eyed, turning back and forth. It’s too much. The laughter from her throat he’s previously shoved himself down. The cheer from the crowd that is deafening in his already ringing ears. Steve’s clapping– like a trained circus seal.

When the bull bucks for the last time, she leans forward and runs both hands through her hair, flicking it over her shoulders. Then, his girl, ever a gymnast, hops off and gives the crowd a bow, picking up her jacket on the way. Eddie watches her grab the same one she had on the first time they met- faded denim, worn shoulders, decorated in pins and patches.

It’s gotta be fate. Or destiny. Or maybe some fucked-up circumstance.

Her face is bright with joy, cheeks glistening with the lightest sheen of sweat, lips shiny with the way her tongue flicks out and licks it. To his right, Steve discreetly adjusts his pants, but Eddie is already rock hard. He slides back until he’s disappeared behind his friend, a smirk suddenly growing.

Trouble claps you on the back when you step out of the cushions of the ring. Robin and the rest of the gang stand by with so many questions, but you only wave them off. The secret is that in your college days you worked at a restaurant with a mechanical bull, and on your breaks you rode the fuck out of it.

Sometimes, growing up in the dirty South had its perks.

At first, upon entering the bar, you were wary and afraid you might throw out your back now that you’re not a spry young thing, but two pitchers in with Trouble and Robin and you were spitting into your hands and swinging over its seat.

Yep. You think victoriously, still got it.

“Hey!” A coif of hair sticks out of the crowd an inch or so above most other people. Steve, Trouble’s boyfriend and history teacher at Hawkins High, is grinning ear-to-ear, and you duck because you were not expecting him to witness that. Trouble smacks you on the ass and pushes you forward. “So, you hid this from us?” She asks, motioning to the bull and then up and down to you.

“Aw, fuck,” you mutter but can’t help the grin that breaks across your face. “C’mon, y’all… I didn’t think it’d come up.” Steve hands you a glass of amber, and you hide behind it with your hand, pretending to cool off by pressing it to your forehead.

“I almost forgot–” He turns, looking over his shoulder. “I wanna introduce you to Eddie, my other roommate, he teaches at Hawkins too!”

Eddie swivels into view, and any previous thoughts fly right out your head. If you had something in your mouth, you’d probably choke on it. He’s there, in all his glory, just like you remember: black leather jacket, dark stubble and eyes moving like smooth bourbon poured into a glass as he looks you up and down.

His teeth are sharp when he smiles.

“Oh, princess,” Eddie sighs, “I can’t believe you thought you’d get away that easy.”

And you think, as you stare wide-eyed at him, with Steve now coming to the same conclusion—mouth forming a silent “Oh”, you think that you are so fucked.

Maybe your life isn’t a romantic comedy at all, maybe it’s a terrible porno opening scene or some psycho sexual thriller because your former one-night stand is shooting you a mischievous grin, flexing his biceps, pulling on his lower lip with his teeth until it stretches white and snaps back plump and red.

Sensing the tension, Steve quickly turns around to the table.

Eddie cocks his head back, motioning you to follow.

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #stranger things fanfiction #reader insert #notes on a scene - rosewaterandivy #Spotify

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ashxketchum · 3 months

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MY DEPRESSION HAS BEEN CURED MY SKIN IS CLEAR MY CROPS ARE FLOURISHING ALL BECAUSE OF THIS ONE IMAGE THIS IS THE YEAR OF ADVENTURE PANDERING LETS FUCKIN GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Let's break this down one by one ~

This is such a good Sora fit I don't even know how to explain how very much OG Sora this is, the pink tones of the overall sporty outfit perfectly capture all levels of her personality. To top it off she's sharing flower themed cream sandwiches with Piyomon AAAHHH the subtle reference okay merch team you can take a w. Not to mention Sora is perfectly matching with Taichi and the fruit in her sandwich is orange stoooopppp itttt!!!!!

TAICHI OMG who is dressing this boy because that's the most he's ever jocked as a 11 year old. The sweatshirt, cargo pants, matching wristband and the sense to put his goggles down, he is winning the sporty casual fashion show for sure. And of course him and Agumon are enjoying some chicken popcorn, love how they weren't even subtle with the packaging art we all know Japan's favourite fried chicken brand anyway 🤣

Yamato. YAMATO. Y A M A T O. You're 11 can you tone down the cool guy heartthrob behaviour for a minute because I am losing my mind THE DOGTAG CHAIN IM GONNA SCREEAAAMMM ACTUALLY I AM SCREAAAMING AAAAHHHHHHH. He looks so good, there is absolutely no wrong element in his entire outfit, everything is perfectly paired up, a fashionista is among us. The little thumbs up over the onigiri that Gabumon is offering him?? Is he telling Gabumon that he's okay with having one and Gabumon can have the rest because that's the sweet, protective, kind, caring baby he is at heart???🥹🥹🥹The blue and green gradient in the background tho?? Mimato math is mathing bestiesss 🤣

Takeru is just a lil guy, but such a perfect lil guy!!! I like how his outfit has the similar green shade as his anime outfit but they still chose to gave him a new beanie instead which doesn't really match the colour tone of the rest of the fit but it's Takeru so we know that he can pull any hat off and that's what he does!!! Him and Patamon sharing burgers, okay mood, but why is he looking so surprised? I need to know what happened, did he spill some sauce on his overalls? Was the burger too hot to bite? WHAT HAPPENED TAKERU????? 😢

Jou, I see you paired up the plaid pants with a nice long, muted, warm toned jacket BUT I SEE THAT PURPLE SHIRT POKING IN FROM INSIDE and excuse me sir but why that purple with the plaid 😭 I need to see a version where Jou isn't wearing the jacket so I can make an informed rating on this outfit but may I add that in the full merch pic he has paired this look with green and white sneakers...I cannot defend you I am sorry Jou, please try brown loafers next time 😭 But outfit aside, Jou eating a taiyaki with Gomamon is lowkey funny I just know that Gomamon cracked a Marching Fishes joke at least once.

Koushiro...I will not go into detail but I will say it's cute that you have a sweater with a little K on it, it's also very cute that there is a splash of orange in your outfit, who's attention are you vying for it isn't subtle at all bby boy and I am grateful you matched your shoes to your sweater even if the socks are definitely a choice and that blue with orange is also definitely another choice. Good to see your are making choices. I like that him and Tentomon are sharing dango, it's always nice to see Koushiro's fondness towards Japanese traditional snacks hinted at in some way.

MIMI. QUEEN. SLAAAAAYYYYYYYYYY!!!! YOU NEVER EVER MISS MY SWEET BEAUTIFUL BABY GIRL. The pastel tones matched with the grey stockings for contrast, that beret and the fuzzy hem boots, you just know she shops at Takashimaya and Isetan and anything below it will just not do 👏🏻 Plus Sora and Mimi are wearing the same tones, which probably means that they pre-planned the outfits together, cuties!!! Also Crepe is such a Mimi™️ choice of dessert but I always get teary eyes when I see Palmon mimic Mimi's gestures, there is just so much love and admiration between them for each other, pure childish wonder 💚 And the crepe even has a cutesy character face on it, which kinda looks like Monzaemon, though I can't be sure but if it is then another win for a subtle reference. Not to mention both Yamato and Mimi look like they've dressed in a more cool and elegant style than the rest like they might be on their way to a date THE MIMAT MATH IS MATHING YALLL!!!

Hikari looks super cute, I think there isn't much official art of her in casual clothing for OG stuff so it's nice to see her in a more cutesy fit suited to her age. The hairband matching the cardigan is such a nice touch!! I can't recall any other casual outfit for OG design Hikari except the War Game and Memorial Party dress, so I think this would be the first time we see Hikari with a hairband and it just looks adorable. Of course she is sharing an ice cream with Tailmon, it's kinda their brand now but like Takeru she's making a surprised expression, perhaps she wasn't expecting Tailmon to offer her a bite of her ice cream?

To conclude, this is probably the best OG artwork we've gotten since Idk maybe the Rainy Day stationery series. This will be sold in advance at the Kamio Store booth at Anime Japan 2024. No other details were mentioned, but the event booth sale feels like a pre-sale before the goods become available more widely at other outlets, hopefully, at some stores that international fans have access too as well.

Thank you for coming to my TedTalk.

Ayushi out.

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mrkheartffmans · 5 months

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part two of the last lil drabble i HAD to elaborate...

mdni 18+ fem!reader x kinda dark!adam stanheight

she's blk but feel free to read if you aren't tho <3

content warning: somno!! dubious consent, perv!adam, masturbation, groping, oral, fingering, panty sniffing fuuuuck, half-dressed reader

adam feeling the reader up in her sleep after she let him the night before.

adam just couldn't get enough...

the feeling of squeezing your breasts had him on top of the world. your soft squishy mounds conforming perfectly under his grasp. that night he retreated back to his bedroom... his hands were wrapped around his cock stroking so feverishly thinking about your blushing face looking up at him. all the little whimpers that escaped your lips had him shooting thick ropes cum over his knuckles.

"fuck..." he thought to himself. he wanted more

you were sleeping so prettily a couple hours later in your bed. wearing your sleep shirt that now smells like him and you didn't mind one bit. adam cracked your door a little bit peeking in, eyeing your sleeping form. your shirt was slightly hiked up your soft tummy exposing your panty clad pussy to him. every part of you is so delicious to him and seeing you like this made it no better.

he quietly made his way over to you admiring your beauty it seemed to be even stronger as you slept. he could feel himself hardening in his sweats watching your chest rise and fall. he noticed that your nipples were hard now! while you sleep they're still the stiff little buds he remembers passing his thumbs over earlier.

inching closer to you he leans down to your face making sure you're sound asleep. soft breaths escaping your plump lips, his eyes scan your blushing face slightly damp from your moisturizer you applied before bed. adam smells your sweet strawberry soap you bathed with its scent infiltrates his thoughts replacing them with you and only you™️. he also takes in your natural scent. the warm oat and sweat from your room being a tiny bit too warm from the space heater nearby.

"just a little more won't hurt will it?" he convinces himself while looking at your cute pussy. it's so fat and juicy that your panties barely can hold your cunnie in them. he leans down and gently sniffs your cunt exhaling deeply when it hits the back of his throat. he almost gets the idea to lick you through your panties but he saves that for another time. he brings his hands to your soft chest again, this time feeling your ribcage covered by its layer of fat. slowly savoring your minor expressions shifting under his touch.

you gently stir in your sleep whimpering not yet fully awake. hands travelling north he lifts your shirt completely over your chest now, not able to take it anymore. he ogles at the sweet pillowy soft breasts before him. nipples immedoately hardening from the change in temperature. so cute and sensitive all for him !! that dumb draft near your bedroom window is to blame... or is it?

"she can't be this oblivious..." he whispers still kneading at your mounds. maybe you heard him because now your eyes are itching to be opened by the ticklish feeling you were dreaming about. but you quickly find out in reality you're not being tickled at all. your tired eyes find your roomate over you with a handful of you in his palms. "oh, adam? w-what'r you doin'?" you whimper in confusion. your heart hammered violently against your chest eyes stinging with tears threatening to fall.

you didn't want it to go THIS far. but the way he's touching you right now has your thighs pressing together. his cock was aching and throbbing in his sweatpants at this point. "adam please s-stop m'sleeping." your weak protests subtly changing into hushed whines. "there there princess you know this feels good, now doesn't it?" adam whispers to you. you couldn't deny it at all... how he's squeezing and touching all on your body.

adam raises your shirt above your breasts leaning in closer to you, nearly being able to feel your heart beat through your chest. "you're so soft cutie, you know i couldn't stop thinking about this since earlier?" with that he has one of your nipples between his teeth, biting firmly on the tender bud. kissing down your ribs, licking all over your tummy, he finds himself over your panties. teasing you by slapping the band against your skin.

his fingers trace patterns over your covered clit that's now swollen. cupping your entire pussy with his warm hand grinding his palm into you. your hips stutter against his touches chasing the pleasure. "i thought you said you were sleepy, peach?" he grins using his once innocent nickname as a descriptor for your wet cunt he's smushing around with his hands.

"please, a-adam do something." you pathetically whine to him. he hooks a finger inside your panties pulling them to the side exposing the wet mess youv'e been making. the cool air hitting your most sensitive place is making your head reel. "m'gonna jus-." is all you hear before his tongue is flicking back and forth against your clit. your hands immediately fly to his hair, holding him in place where you need him most.

"you're such a dirty little girl, letting your roomate eat your pussy like this." he moans pushing his index and middle fingers into you. twisting his knuckles at just the riiiiiight angle making you see stars and all that happy shit. he switches between rubbing circles into your clit with his thumb while tonguing your hole and licking broad strips upward.... then back down.

OKAY I'M DONE I'M SERIOUS SOMEONE TAKE MY PHONE now i admit it... i'm NOT NORMAL about him

#adam stanheight #saw 2004 #adam stanheight x reader #black!fem!reader #saw fanfic #m x f #adam stanheight smut #adam faulkner stanheight x black!reader #adam faulkner stanheight #saw x #saw franchise #saw fandom #saw movies

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syd-djarin · 6 months

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Sugar, Spice & Please Fuck Me Nice (neighbor!joel AU)

chapter two: sex and candy

*18+ minors DNI*

tags: mentions of anxiety, religious shame/guilt, reader being insecure, mentions of (negative) past sexual experiences and partners, brief mention of alcohol consumption, v fingering, oral (f receiving) joel is a cunnilinguist, 2000’s nostalgia, mentions of the patriarchy (booooo) squirting (sue me), Joel-Land™️™️™️

reader has hair that she fidgets with, "grows warm" /"cheeks burning" but not necessarily blushing, with embarrassment - minor edits to make this more inclusive for my readers <3

word count: ~4.5k

Author/s notes: Sorry it took longer to get ch. 2 out than I anticipated. I've had a lot going on in my personal life (I got a new job!) But I promise it won't be as long for ch. 3 hehe. this is a lengthy chapter, hope y'all enjoy!!

had to name reader's bestie after my dear friend @katiexpunk <3 thanks for always letting me run ideas by you and being a peach in general.

and thank you to @softiedingo for being a beta reader as well <333

It has been two weeks since you introduced yourself to Joel and Sarah. You hate to admit it, but you haven’t been able to stop thinking about Joel. Your mind will stay preoccupied temporarily, then they circle back to him.

Throwing clothes in the washer? Joel.

Boiling water for pasta? Joel.

Doing the dishes? Joel.

In the shower? Yep, definitely Joel.

And this morning is no different.

You’re staring at yourself in your bathroom mirror, brushing your teeth, mind deep into Joel-Land, then your thoughts take a sharp turn - for the worst. You’re thinking about all of your past sexual encounters.

How unsatisfying and selfish your past partners were. You hadn’t been romantically involved with any of your past partners, all of them casual-no-strings-attached type of arrangements.

Even if the sex was casual, did that mean the pleasure had to be one-sided? Of course not.

However, after each encounter you found yourself feeling disappointed, and truthfully, it made you feel…..icky. Was it religious shame? Even though you don’t participate or believe in any religion anymore, your formative years were spent in a conservative, Christian church; where sex is bad, and sin is bad. And you don’t want to be bad, because you will go to hell. You don’t even believe in hell, yet, there is a small voice in your head that still worries about eternal damnation. Jeez, I should really see a therapist about that.

Perhaps it’s the misogyny and sexism, rampant and hard-wired into society and into mind’s since the beginning of time.

Your internal theological and philosophical debate gives you a throbbing headache.

+++

It’s Friday. Halloween falls on a Tuesday this year, so most Halloween celebrations would occur this weekend.

If you were still in college, you’d most likely attend a costume party at a frat party and drink until the sun came up. These days, you don’t recover from hangovers as easily and find the anxiety spiral that follows a night of drinking to be too debilitating so you’re planning on keeping it chill this year.

You’re pouring out a bag of candy into a bowl, so candy is easily accessible for your sweet tooth cravings when you hear a strong, loud cluster of knocks at your front door.

Knock. Knock. Knock-knock.

Shaking off your initial startling from the sudden knocks, you open your front door to find Joel. He’s leaning his shoulder on the doorframe, one half of his body bears all his weight. He swiftly straightens upright again when you greet him. He looks even more handsome from the last time you saw him. He’s wearing dark wash jeans that accentuate his body in the most delectable way and a black t-shirt with a faded MILLER CONSTRUCTION graphic that is just barely legible.

You have the urge to steal the well-worn shirt so you can sleep in it, relish his scent, and let it become a metaphorical embrace of Joel.

Fuck, I really am down bad, you internally scold yourself to come back to the present moment.

“Joel! Ho-how are you?” you manage to creak out through nerves and surprise.

His beautiful, dark brown eyes are staring right into yours. His eyes could compel you to do anything.

“I’m doin’ alright, you?” The word ‘alright’ is drawn out making it sound like “awllll-right”

“Can’t complain. Y’all settling in okay?” tilting your head unconsciously, as if to convey genuinity.

“Oh yeah, ‘s a nice neighborhood. Sarah seems to be enjoyin’ her new school, I was a lil worried she’d have a hard time but she’s a smart kid and gets along with pretty much everyone. Awful silly of me to worry in the first place…” he’s rambling, hands moving at the same pace as his speech.

You find his rambling to be cute, it’s a bit of a juxtaposition from his strong, demanding presence.

Joel realizes he’s nervous after he concludes his tangent. When’s the last time he felt nervous around women? Especially a sweet, non-threatening woman like you?

“Anywho, I came over to uh- ask you somethin’... Sarah liked your cookies so much she wants to learn how to make them herself and was wondering if you’d teach her?”

“I’d love to!” You shoot him a flattered smile, learning that Sarah wanted you to teach her to bake makes your heart sing.

Joel is amazed at you. You agreed to teach a twelve year old, one who you hardly know, to bake. He shouldn’t be surprised given your sweet demeanor and generous heart, but he’s in awe of you.

“You sure? I mean, you obviously don’t have to if you don’t want—”

“Joel, I’d be honored to. Send her over in an hour,” you cut him off, hoping to convey your delight in teaching someone else to bake, the same way your grandma did for you.

Joel can’t stop the shit-eating grin that appears on his face.

“Sounds good. I’ll send her your way, sweetheart,” he lingers just for a moment to watch your reaction to the nickname, the one he’s used twice.

You desperately try to keep your composure cool and collected, but you’ve never had a good poker face. You wear your emotions like an accessory. And right now, you are flustered. You divert your attention to the ground as if looking into his eyes would expose your every thought.

“O-okay!” You can barely stammer out a response before he is pivoting off your porch, back to his own house.

You can’t see it with his back turned to you, but Joel is smirking to himself and feeling amused at his effect on you.

+++

“You sure you don’t want me to go with you?”

“Yes, dad. I don’t need a chaperone to bake cookies. I’m a big girl now, remember?”

Yes, he is acutely aware that she is a big girl now. Well, not really, to him she will always be his baby girl, but that doesn’t stop her from growing up. Too fast for his liking. The idea of her becoming a teenager almost gives him a coronary. It won’t be long before she’s driving, then graduating, and college. What if she wants to attend a school in another state? Across the country?

He feels queasy at that thought, afraid that she will grow out of thinking her dad is the coolest, afraid that she doesn’t want to spend time with her old man anymore.

He wills himself to think about something else. Anything else. Inevitably his thoughts wander to you.

Joel hates to admit it, but he was hoping to join Sarah for the baking lesson. He wants an excuse to be in your radiant, sweet, beautiful presence again.

While you can’t stop thinking about him, he can’t stop thinking about you.

Driving home from work? You.

Making dinner? You.

Making his morning coffee? You.

Laying in bed? Oh, yeah. Definitely you.

Exactly one hour passes when Sarah arrives at your house. You’ve already set up in your kitchen in preparation; already pre-measured the ingredients, setting out all the necessary baking equipment and you even found a spare apron for Sarah to wear. Ya know, to give her the full experience.

“Oooh, this apron makes me feel like a professional!” Sarah exclaims after tying the strings on her designated apron.

“Well, after this, you will be.”

You can’t remember the last time you felt this much joy. Sharing a passion of yours with someone who is eager to learn from you delights your heart and soul in a way you didn’t know you needed until now.

“So first, we’ll need to combine the butter and sugar,” Sarah dumps the butter and sugar into the mixing bowl. “Great, now we want to beat the mixture until it looks fluffy.”

She is completely engrossed in watching for the desired texture, furrowing her brows together in a way that mimics Joel. You find it adorable.

“Excellent, now we are going to add in the eggs and vanilla extract.”

She follows your instructions to a T, meticulous and concentrated as if she were mixing hazardous chemicals in a lab.

“You’re doing great. Now let’s add our dry ingredients, half of it at a time.”

Her eyes light up when it’s time to fold in the chocolate chips. You both agree it’s the best part, both of you indulging in a few before adding them to the dough.

You assist Sarah in rolling the dough into little balls and placing them onto the baking sheet.

While waiting for the cookies to bake, you learn more about Sarah and Joel. She tells you about their old house, the camping trip they went on this past summer, the catchy pop songs on the radio that Joel will pretend to hate but she catches him humming the tune later, how Joel makes a big breakfast for the two of them every Sunday, a ritual they started when Sarah started school - he makes pancakes just for her.

Getting a snapshot of Joel and Sarah’s lives and their dynamic makes your mega crush on Joel that much bigger. From what Sarah has shared with you, he seems like a caring, protective yet fun dad. You’re aching to learn everything about him.

“Do you have any plans for Halloween?” Sarah asks as you’re pulling the baking sheet out of the oven.

“Oh um, I usually just hand out candy to trick-or-treaters. Nothing super exciting. What about you?”

“We always order pizza and watch a scary movie - nothing super scary though. We dress up too. Well, I dress up but dad thinks he is too cool to do that so he wears the same boring mask every year,” she has a mischievous grin on her face, concocting a plan when she asks, “do you want to come over and join us?”

On one hand you’d love nothing more than to spend more time with your new friend and Joel, but on the other hand the thought of being in the same room as Joel, in his house, makes you both anxious and aroused. Dizzy, nervous, and horny makes for an unpleasant combination.

Gaining a sliver of bravery, you swallow your apprehension and say yes.

“Sure, yeah, what time should I come over?”

“6:30. And you better wear a costume!”

+++

You’ve spent the past hour trying to put a costume together. Not making any progress, you decide to seek external advice - your best friend Katie.

You both met as freshman and have been close friends ever since, even rooming together in your first off-campus apartment. She moved to the West Coast shortly after graduation, though you still keep in touch via email and phone. You give her the scoop on Joel - him moving into the neighborhood, your gigantic crush on him, how you baked cookies with Sarah yesterday. She’s impatiently waiting for you to bone your hot neighbor. Girl, I’m waiting too.

“Do you still have that bunny costume you wore junior year?”

You rummage through your tote of seasonal clothing in search of said costume. Pulling it out, you now realize just how skimpy the costume really is. Bunny ears and a tail paired with a skin tight black bodysuit leaves virtually nothing to the imagination and definitely too much skin for this occasion.

“Dude, I can’t wear this! His daughter will be there! I can’t believe I wore this out in public. This is X-Rated,” you’re growing agitated in having no success in your costume, to the point that you are tempted to tell Sarah you came down with something so you don’t have to go.

“Okay, okay, the ears and tail are still salvageable. Do you have something besides the bodysuit?”

“Ummm…” you trail off into the phone, frantically searching for something to replace the risque bodysuit. You find a plain white baby tee amongst the sea of clothing, deciding you can pair it with your favorite jeans, the ones that accentuate your body in all the right places.

“This could work..” muttering to yourself when a devious thought pops into your head. White shirt, no bra.

“Found it! Gotta go, loveyoubye!” You hang up the call before Katie has a chance to respond, tossing your pink Razr on your bed. Your body hums in anticipation and jitters, feeling emboldened by your no bra plot.

After throwing on your outfit, you style your hair differently than you normally do. You add several coats of mascara to your lashes, sweep on some blush that complements your skin and add a sparkly lip gloss to your lips, making them appear extra plump and juicy.

You grab a bag of Halloween candy and you practically skip across the street. Reaching the front door of your new bestie and her gorgeous dad, your confidence is replaced with a furious ball of anxiety. Your heart is palpitating and you feel your stomach churn.

Would Joel think you looked stupid? Or worse, childish? Fuck, you should’ve stayed home.

Joel opening the door snaps you out of your thought spiral but only briefly, because he’s staring at you like you’ve started growing extra limbs. He looks both puzzled and pissed?

“What uh-what’re you doing here?”

His voice has a sharpness you haven’t heard before and it stings.

You have a moment of realization.

Sarah didn’t run the invitation by her dad.

You deduct that he isn’t a fan of surprises.

Before you can formulate a response, Sarah saves you from having to do so.

“You dressed up! I’m glad you came,” she squeals while wrapping her arms around your middle in an embrace.

She looks up at Joel from where she’s latched onto you and gives her confused dad an explanation.

“Dad, it’s okay, I invited her.”

That seems to alleviate his confusion. You, on the other hand, not so much. You’re internally screaming at yourself. It’s obvious to you that Joel wasn’t expecting you, and in conclusion, doesn’t want you here.

“I didn’t mean to impose, I—I’m sorry, I’ll uh— just go back home,” fighting back tears of embarrassment, looking everywhere except at Joel. You think now is a superb time to move across the country, change your name, dye your hair, somewhere far away from this humiliation.

Joel senses you’re feeling rejected in some way.

“No, no, come on in. Jus’ wasn’t expectin’ you s’all,” he gives you his most reassuring smile.

You swallow the lump of emotions in your throat.

He didn’t expect you to come over, nor did he expect you’d show up as his personal version of a Playboy bunny. He almost busted in his jeans when he could see your nipples through your very thin white t-shirt. He thinks you’re trying to kill him.

+++

You’re starting to relax once you three settle on the couch, Sarah nestling between you and Joel, Alien on the TV. Turns out, you and Joel share a love for the film. You may or may not have gotten into a heated (playful) debate about the other films in the franchise.

Joel gets an influx of trick-or-treaters, more than you usually get, residents of the neighborhood taking advantage of this opportunity to be nosy. Again.

In between costume clad visitors, you sneak glances at Joel, who looks absolutely scrumptious tonight. His hair had been damp and combed back when you arrived, his curls now almost dry and in all their glory. He’s wearing an obviously well-loved, faded Pearl Jam concert tee that clings to his arms and grey sweatpants that sit dangerously low on his hips. You wonder if all his shirts fit like that. When he stands, you can see the outline of his dick through his sweatpants. You have to manually restrain yourself from pouncing on him. You’re soaking through your panties and you’re a little worried that if you stand, the seat beneath you will be soaked too.

The scent of his body wash invades your nostrils, a heavenly mix of sandalwood and cinnamon. You’re imagining yourself running your hands through his hair and burying your nose into his neck, alternating between kissing and sucking on the skin there. You want to taste every inch of his skin, taking your time to savor him.

Joel’s stealing glances at you, too. He’s never seen someone look so sweet and seductive, divine even. You smell warm and sweet, amber and vanilla. Not the artificial, manufactured type vanilla scent, it’s like vanilla straight from the bean. When you readjust your position on the couch to get more comfortable, your tits lightly bounce, unrestrained by a bra. He has to stifle a groan, disguising it as a cough. He wonders how much they’d bounce if you were riding his cock. Your lips are absolutely sinful. Pouty and plump, juicy from the lip gloss. The bunny ears are the nail in his coffin. He’s picturing you bent over on his couch, still wearing the bunny ears as he devours your pussy from behind.

Only a quarter of the way through the movie, a few of Sarah’s friends from her old school pop in to invite her over for an impromptu sleepover to which Joel agrees to, since they no longer go to school together.

Which means you and Joel are left alone. Together. Your body is aching to close space between you and the man you’re enamored with. You don’t know that Joel is itching to do the same.

“Sarah couldn’t stop talkin’ bout yesterday. She loved hangin’ out with ya, thanks again for doin’ that.”

“She’s welcome to come over anytime. She’s a sweet kid,” you’re beaming at the fact she enjoyed baking with you. Joel notices the way your eyes gleam, overflowing with delight.

You finally have the courage to meet his eyes. The way his eyes are raking over your entire body makes your clit throb in anticipation. Your heartbeat is erratic, thumping loudly in your ears.

The energy in the room is magnetic, pulling you and Joel closer together.

“You can uh-scoot closer t’me if ya want,” he gruffs out, beckoning you to scoot closer to him. Joel wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but you make him feel like a flustered teenage boy about to kiss a girl for the first time.

You scoot closer to Joel, hoping he doesn’t notice your body trembling from nerves.

With your body flush next to his, he stretches one of his toned arms behind your head, resting it on the back of the couch. You can feel the warmth radiating from his body and it sends a shiver down your spine, straight to your aching core.

The tension in the air is palpable, both of your bodies buzzing in arousal. You’re both pretending to watch the movie in front of you, but your minds are elsewhere. He gently removes his arm from the couch and rests it across your shoulders. It’s a seemingly innocuous gesture, but its impact makes you clench around nothing, more arousal dripping into your panties.

He leans his head down close to yours, his mouth behind your ear.

“No bra? You’re a naughty lil bunny aren’t ya?” His hot breath tickles your ear, your eyes clamp shut involuntarily and you whimper. A high-pitched, whiny whimper, and Joel’s never heard anything sweeter.

He places his other large palm on your thigh, gently squeezing it. Your skin prickling in goosebumps and your nipples are hard enough to cut glass. The wetness pooled in your panties is beyond the point of comfort.

Joel presses a chaste kiss behind your ear, eliciting another whimper from you. He peppers kisses from your neck all the way to your collarbones.

“This okay?”

“Mhmmm…” You’re already so keyed up you feel hazy. Your whole body feels hot, lit aflame by Joel’s lips on your skin.

“You gonna be a good girl for me?” he rasps while his hand is caressing your thigh, intentionally not too close to where you want him. Need him.

“Mhmmm,” you moan, still unable to form words, arousal taking over all of your bodily functions.

“Need you to use your words, honey.” He squeezes your thigh again.

He pulls his face back from your neck to look you in the eyes, and slows his movements on your thigh so you can tell him to back off or give him the green light to continue. You grab his hand on your thigh and squeeze it, to keep him from removing it.

“Joel, pleeease. Want it so bad. Need you so fuckin’ bad.”

You beg in the most sultry voice you can muster, emphasizing every syllable.

Your lust laden eyes and the way you mewl for him ignites something ravenous, primal, carnal in him. He hasn’t heard you cuss before and it sounds so filthy in your honeyed voice. His rock hard cock twitches in his pants.

He presses his plush lips against yours. It’s hesitant at first, but his apprehension dissipates when you wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him back with fervor. Joel deepens the kiss, one hand gripping your hip, the other hand splayed between your shoulder blades, pressing your body further into his. You tangle one of your hands in his luscious curls. He tastes like sweet peppermint and a hint of black coffee. You feel dizzy, tasting him, finally feeling him.

He breaks the kiss, guiding you to lie down on your back and props your head up on one of the couch armrests.

He’s looking down at you and he’s never seen anything more beautiful. You’re always pretty, effortlessly so. But seeing you underneath him, sweet and desperate for him? He’d do anything you ask him to.

“You’re the prettiest lil bunny. So fuckin’ pretty.”

You’re bashful under his gaze and his compliment, cheeks burning.

Joel notices you trying to shy away and he places a thumb under your chin, forcing you to keep looking at him.

Now you feel embarrassed for trying to shy away in the first place.

“Sorry I’m—”

“Nothing to ‘pologize for, sweetheart,” he’s caressing your chin with his thumb, alleviating all of the embarrassment from you.

“Wanna taste you. You’ve no idea how bad I’ve wanted to taste you. Needed to know if you were as sweet as your cookies.”

“Oh, fuck,” you breathe out, “yes - yes please, taste me, Joel”

He chuckles softly at your enthusiasm and promptly rids you of your jeans, making the leather of the couch feel cool to the back of your thighs.

Joel lets out a guttural moan when he sees your sky blue satin panties soaked through. He runs a finger over the damp spot, making you quiver. His touch is featherlight and it’s maddening. You’re squirming, hips lifting off the couch, chasing for more.

He obliges, running a finger over your clit with added pressure.

“Joel, please–” You’re a whiny mess under him, and he’s just getting started. He’s rubbing gentle circles over your bud, still-panty clad.

He presses a kiss on your belly, just below your navel. The tenderness makes your body shudder.

He finally removes your panties and you gasp when the cool air hits your throbbing pussy.

“Pretty girl with a pretty pussy to match.” Joel’s admiring the way your pussy is glistening for him, begging to be touched.

He runs a finger through your drenched seam, your juices dripping onto his thick digit. He licks his finger, then shoves it into his mouth so he can taste every drop. His eyes clamp shut, groaning at how you taste. You commit the image to memory, not wanting to forget how he looks and sounds when he tastes you for the first time.

“Knew you’d taste sweet. So fuckin’ sweet.”

Your brain short circuits when you realize that means he’s thought about this before. That he’s imagined how you’d taste. Picturing him fantasizing about you makes you light-headed.

Joel spreads your legs wider, giving him full access to your pussy. He dives in without warning, licking from entrance up to your clit.

“Fuck, Joel!” You hoarsely shout with one hand gripping the couch cushion and one tugging onto Joel’s messy curls. His beard scratches the sensitive skin of your pussy as you grind your hips into his mouth, desperate for release.

You see stars while he expertly alternates between flicking his tongue and sucking on your clit. He’s keeping a steady rhythm, on the slower side, taking his time pleasuring you. He’s enjoying this.

Obscene sounds fill the room; Joel devouring your pussy like it’s the Last Supper and your chorus of moans and expletives.

“Fuck, don’t stop, don’t you fucking stop!”

“Shitshitshit–”

“Joelllll-”

He picks up the pace, your fingers cramping from their deathgrip on the couch. You feel your peak approaching - sweat beading on your forehead, chest heaving, head thrown back in ecstasy.

Joel senses your approaching release and pushes one of his thick, dexterous fingers into your weeping hole.

He reaches for your hand that’s tangled in his hair and intertwines your fingers with his, resting your connected hands on your inner thigh. It’s overwhelming; the intimacy of your interlocked fingers paired with the filthy onslaught of his mouth.

He speeds up as he adds another finger, hitting the spot that no one except you has reached before. You never knew it could feel this amazing. You thought you were doomed to a life of bad sex.

Apparently, you just needed Joel to show you differently. And you are so glad he proved you wrong.

Joel hooks his fingers inside you bringing you closer and closer to that peak you’ve been dying to reach. You’re squeezing his fingers, both the ones inside you and the ones interlaced with yours.

“Joel I-I’m close,” you manage to choke out, mind foggy from the intense pleasure.

He sucks on your clit, hard and you’re coming, entering a euphoric plane of existence. You’re floating, body trembling, coming harder than you’ve ever come before.

Joel slows his fingers and removes his mouth from your pussy, beard glistening with your release, gently bringing you back to reality. He keeps your fingers locked with his, grounding you in the present.

The orgasmic fog clears from your brain, regaining awareness of your surroundings when you feel how drenched your lower half is. Like, really drenched. You lift your head from the armrest and look down and you’re appalled by the scene.

You fucking squirted. Everywhere.

On yourself, on the couch, on Joel. His beard is soaked completely, to the point it’s dripping down his chin. He’s just as stunned as you are.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry, fuck I-” you’re scrambling to get off the couch and Joel grabs your arm, stopping you in your tracks.

“What’re you sorry for? That was so fuckin’ hot, sweetheart.”

“I-I didn’t know I could do that…”

“Oh yeah? First time ever squirtin’?

“Yeah, the first time anyone else has made me come… like, ever.”

His gaze goes dark.

You get the feeling that he’s just getting started with you.

And just like your cookies, he’d never have enough.

THE END

#joel miller #joel fic #joel x f!reader #fanfic #first fanfic #joel miller is babygirl #joel miller smut

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chrisbitchtree · 8 months

Text

Inspired by this post from @ariesbilly!

***

Growing up with Neil Hargrove as a father, Billy was almost too scared to even think about being gay, let alone what his type might be, but he certainly never thought his type would be Just Some Guy™️.

Yet, now that he’s finally away at college and free to explore his sexuality, here he is in the cafeteria with Heather, barely two weeks into his first semester, trying to discreetly point out to her the guy he’s crushing on in his Intro to Psych class.

Steve Harrington. He of the shaggy brown hair constantly covered in a worn baseball cap, circular plastic glasses, and basic t-shirts and jeans. The most exciting his look ever gets is when he wears the baseball cap backwards. Billy swoons a little bit every time he sees him.

“Him?” Heather asks, after he’s confirmed that Billy’s not talking about the fifty other guys with plastic glasses and baseball caps dispersed around the space. “He’s so boring.”

“I know,” Billy replies, sighing. “I don’t know what it is, but there’s just something about him. Last night I had a dream that he was about to take off his glasses before he fucked me and I asked if he could keep them on.”

“Jesus, Hargrove,” Heather laughs as she steals a fry from his plate. “You’ve got it bad. So, what are you going to do about it?”

Billy has no clue. They watch Steve in silence for a couple minutes, until he’s joined by a girl that couldn’t be any more the opposite of Just Some Guy™️. She’s got on bright red Converse that appear to be completely covered in doodles, carpenters pants that are splattered with paint, and the world’s ugliest tie dyed bucket hat. Steve leans over to say something to her and she’s instantly laughing, swatting his arm.

“I don’t even know if he’s into guys,” Billy finally replies. “That could be his girlfriend for all we know. Opposites do attract.”

Heather gives him an affronted look. “First of all, bisexuality exists, jackass, and second of all, unless she’s cheating on him, she’s not his girlfriend. How do I know this, you ask?”

“How?”

“I fucked her last night. And we’re going on a date tonight.”

Billy’s shocked, but recovers to give her a congratulatory high five. His girl’s got game.

“How did that happen?”

“I saw her at that mixer I went to, thought she was hot, asked if she wanted to get a room and that was that.”

Billy shakes his head, laughing. “If only it was that easy for me.”

Heather stacks their trays and grabs them. “Follow me.”

Billy does, curious to see what’s going to happen next. His curiosity turns to horror as she marches over to Steve and his friend. Billy wants to run, but he takes a deep breath and follows her instead, trying to be brave for once.

“Hey Robin, can’t wait for tonight.” She greets the girl before turning to Steve.

“You into guys?”

Steve looks confused, but still nods slowly.

“Great,” Heather says. “You think my boy is hot?”

Steve nods more vigorously than before.

“Perfect,” Heather replies, a smile curling over her lips as she turns to Robin. “Bring him tonight. It’s a double date.”

Billy finally works up the nerve to look directly at Steve and sees a shy grin on his face. Their eyes meet and Billy grins back. Steve might be just Just Some Guy™️ to most, but he’s The Guy, The Only Guy, to Billy.

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #billy x steve #harringrove ficlet #robin buckley #heather holloway #chrisbitchtree writes

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bump1nthen1ght · 10 months

Text

Playing His Game (M!Orc x F!Reader) Part 2

Pairing: Male!Orc x Female! Reader

Warnings: Explicit content under the cut (18+ ONLY), degradation

Request: Would you do a part two for Gramus the orc and the female reader? Like an established relationship but still the same kind of nsfw?

Six months in, you think you and Gramus are officially out of the honeymoon phase.

Don’t misunderstand, the relationship is still amazing, the two of you are still very much obsessed with each other. Conversations aren’t dull, the dates haven’t stopped, and you even discovered you have similar habits of living! This isn’t that slump where he finds out your breath smells rank in the morning or you find out he doesn’t know how to wash whisks and genuinely some magic is lost. No, things are just a little different now.

7 months ago, you’d be opening your door in a sexy outfit, hair done and makeup freshly immaculate, trying to bend the sexiest way possible to get your hot neighbors attention. Now, you’re in one of his big shirts and your comfiest Monday™️ underwear, watching him do the dishes as you sip on a rootbeer float.(He once said he hadn’t drank one since he was 7. You try to make them every date night) Your hair is half-messy, your face is nowhere near camera ready, but damn do you feel hot. And maybe its because you just ate a delicious dinner and don’t have to clean, or because your fine-ass boyfriend is wearing those work pants that fit him just right, but you are unabashadly horny in this moment.

Its why you tip-tap your fingers around his back and onto his stomach, pressing your braless chest against him and taking a deep sniff of his shirt. Gramus chuckles, one hand leaving the dishes to pat your arm.

“What are you doing, love?”

His voice is so deep, always so soft. You love it, but you love it even more when it gets rough.

“Nothing.” You mumble into his tshirt, still rubbing circles into his toned stomach. The mischievous smile on your face says otherwise. “Is it illegal for me to hug my boyfriend?”

“No.” He laughs again, rubbing the back of your palm as he runs a mixing spoon under water. “But you’re a naughty girl, so you always have something up your sleeve.”

“Thats a bold accusation, sir.” You say, giggling into his back. “What proof could you possible have?”

“Well, one of your hands is playing with my waistband, for one.” You laugh again, snapping the fabric of his shorts against him. “And the fact that we had sex 3 times last night, yet you’re still hungry for more.”

“What can I say,” You press a kiss into his back muscles, “I find it hard to control myself around my sexy ass boyfriend. Is that a crime…” You intentionally slow your voice, trying to sound as sultry as possible, “Officer?”

“No,” Gramus wraps a hand around your wrist and, in one quick moment, has flipped you both around, your back now pressed against the counter as he smirks over you, “But I don’t like your attitude, slut.” Gramus other hand comes up and grabs yoru jaw, forcing you to look him right in the eye. The dishes lay forgotten behind you, Gramus mouthing the question “Green?” as his thumb rubs across your cheek.

You nod, licking your lips before pretending to struggle in his grip. “I guess you’ll have to correct my behavior, sir. If you can handle me.” You quickly yank your wrist out of his hand, trying to use his gentleness against him and take off toward your bedroom. But Gramus is used to your naughty tricks by now, pivoting your inertia to a nearby cabinet and slamming you (as sweetly as possible) up against it. He uses his body weight to press down and keep you still, though you fretfully play-struggle some more. He kisses his teeth, chiding your failed attempt.

“Nice try, but you’re gonna have to use more of those whore brain cells of yours to get passed me.” Using his forearm, Gramus keeps you pressed against the cabinet while he reaches down and undoes his belt. The clink of it falling to the ground sends goosebumps down your arms, a familiar slickness pooling in your sweatpants. “Now, I expect you to make up for your insurbordination. Maybe I’ll be genereous and even fuck you after.” Gramus doesn’t need any force to push you down on your knees, your mouth already salivating at the prominent bulge in his pants. Those blue boxer briefs you got him the other day strain in between his open fly, making you wet your lips.

“I guess I have to work extra hard.” You pout, looking up at him with all the sluttiness in your arsenal. “After all, that cock looks really big.”

“Damn right, bitch.” Gramus digs his hand into your hair and yanks you forward, shuffling down his underwear and stroking his cock twice. The tip of it taps your lips and you can’t fight the urge to lap at the leaking slit. Gramus’ thumb yanks open your bottom lip, slapping his head against your eager tongue. “That’s right, down on your knees. Where you belong.”

Despite his brutal words, Gramus gently slides his cock down your throat. He waits for your eyes to widen and your head to nod before he slides deeper and deeper, trying not to trigger your gag reflex.

Such a softie. You think, wondering how you became so lucky to have him.

Gramus always makes the cutest faces during blowjobs. His closes his eyes and scrunches up his nose. Even when his big hands yank on your hair or his hips fuck into your face, you can’t help but think he looks so damn adorable.

Drool slips down your jaw as Gramus slots himself into your mouth all the way to the base. You give yourself an imaginary pat on the back as Gramus begins gently thrusting. He curses under his breath.

“Fuck, I love this mouth.” Gramus pants, rubbing his thumb across your jaw. “You know how to make me feel good, huh? Fucking whore.” Gramus gently slaps your cheek, just enough to make a sound but not enough to actually hurt. He mouths a timid “Green?” again, to which you nod. He could honestly hit your harder, but you know he prefers not to risk it.

Balls slap against your chin as Gramus picks up the pace, pulling the hand away from your face and leaning it against the countertop. The leverage allows him to move his hips even further, to pound the back of your throat. The gargle of cock in your mouth combined with Gramus grunts make your pussy ache. You decide to sneak one of your hands up his leg while the other goes down to your cunt. The schlick of your wetness is obvious, obvious enough to make Gramus chuckle.

“You’re such a cock-hungry bitch, huh? I’ve barely touched you and you’re already soaked.” You don’t rebut, instead using your tongue to lick up and down Gramus cock as it goes in out of your mouth. The countertop squeaks from Gramus nails clawing across them. He licks his chapped lips. “Probably want my cum huh? You’d probably swallow if I shot my load down your throat, wouldn’t you?” You nod eagerly, looking so debauched with bruised lips. Gramus smirks, but surprises you when he abruptly pulls out, leaving you gasping. He yanks on your hair, forcing you to stand and leave your pussy unattended. Panting, you look up at him with wide eyes. “Too bad I make the decisions around here.”

Gramus easily turns you around and bends you over the counter. He rips down your shorts with a single hand as he strokes his cock, whistling as he spreads open your pussy lips with two fingers. “Gods be damned, you are wet.” You don’t need assistance in opening your legs, Gramus easily sliding his dick across your wet folds, just catching on your clit. “I guess it’s for the best, wouldn’t want to break you. Though,” Between words Gramus shoves his cock to the hit inside you, stralignt he breath out of your chest, “ I bet you’d like that.”

While you’d typically respond with some snarky banter to keep the roleplay im lime, you find all you're capable of is a whimper as Gramus begins pounding your cunt. His calloused hands dig into your hips as he pulls you back onto his pelvis, nails leaving small half-moons on the skin. He slaps your ass hard and fast, pawing at the curve before hitting it again. You can only imagine how he throws his head hack, grunting with each hump, as your face is pressed into the cool countertop.

Gramus cock brutalizes your g-spot, his sweaty balls slapping against your clit with every thrust. The burn of his thick dick stretching you open makes your toes curl, some drool leaking out of your open mouth. Sparks fly up and down your abdomen and you know your lower back is gonna hurt tomorrow.

“F-fuck.” A throaty purr comes from Gramus mouths, slapping your ass again. He’s told you once before that he loves the way it jiggles, that it almost makes him cum every time. You wiggle your hips and push them onto his pelvis, getting another groan and a slap to your ass cheek. “Cheeky little thing.” He mutters under his breath.

“You know you l-love it.” You stutter, finally getting enough wits about you to back talk. But with drool all down the side of your flushed face, you doubt it's very intimidating.

“Damn right I do. Shit!” The knot in your abdomen winds tighter and tighter, Gramus flurried hips telling you that he’s also getting close. A thick palm circles around and grabs you by the throat, pulling you up while arching your back. “Say my name.” Gramus whispers in your ear, the pads of his fingers digging into your jugular. “Scream it.”

With your pussy clenching and your cervix as sore as it is, you doubt you could do anything but scream.

“Gramus! Gramus!” You yell, that knot finally snapping. Gramus shouts another “Fuck!” As your pussy puts him a vice grip, giving a couple more stuttered thrusts before cumming inside you.

You collapse onto the counter, your heavy breath fogging up the cool top. You can feel Gramus sweat dripping down onto your back, his head now laid in between your should blades as he catches his breath. A trickle of his cum runs down you legs, leaving a warm feeling in your gut.

“Damn,” Gramus mumbles into you back. “I forgot about the pans on the stove top.”

You sluggishly turn your head to the left, seeing the messy pot you used for spaghetti sauce tonight’s dinner. You chuckle.

“Sorry, I guess I was too distracting, huh?”

Gramus press a kiss into the center of your back, pulling his softened cock out of you.

“Trust me, it was a welcome distraction.”

Gramus presses another soft kiss to your lips, pulling up his pants and redoing his belt. He then runs a paper towel under hot water and begins wiping away at your legs, cleaning off the slow drying cum. A warm hand rubs your lower back.

“I wasn’t too rough, was I?”

You sigh, shimmying up your underwear.

“Nope,” You give Gramus a peck in the cheek. “I think that was just right.”

#my writing #reader insert #monster x reader #orc #orc x reader #female reader insert

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going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 10 days

Text

141 Headcanons: Going Shopping

Grocery/Food Shopping

John Price loves being the one in charge of the buggy/shopping cart. He loves being the one pushing it, holding the list, and watching you walk ahead all pretty, plucking whatever you'd like to buy onto the cart. He also has a natural eye for deals and sales, and knows when something is actually for sale or when the shop is trying to lie to you.

Johnny MacTavish is a menace when he's shopping. With or without you, he's definitely straying from the list and the budget. He's definitely the type to go shopping while hungry and ends up getting too many snacks, or buys seasonal products that you don't need but that "will get rotated out" of the shop so he better buy them Now.

Kyle Garrick makes a whole day out of going shopping. He'll disappear while you're getting a cart and come back with Starbucks or a cold drink of some kind for you to sip on while you go along and buy whatever you need for the house. He's also very efficient, so he bags everything very well, heavy stuff on the bottom, light/fragile on top, and, especially, all the cold/frozen things together.

Simon Riley is too efficient. It's almost scary. He goes in and out of the shop in record time and doesn't even let himself be affected by sales, new products, limited-time-only displays... Nothing. He follows the list to a T and would rather go inside alone than have you follow him and slow him down. But that also makes him an ass and he'll definitely realize you forgot to add something to the list, but will STILL not stray from his 'route' to go get it. If you wanted it, you should've written it down.

VS.

Clothes' Shopping

John Price is of the opinion that all his clothes are fine and, therefore, he doesn't particularly need new ones. That being said, he does know all his sizes and measurements, and won't be opposed to getting news shoes or a new button-up every once in a while. He's also very much the type that'll give you his honest (and sometimes hurtful) opinion on the fit of the clothes you're trying on and sincerely suggest you try the size up/down.

Johnny MacTavish doesn't really like buying new clothes, though he can be convinced... if you promise him you'll go to a lingerie shop and pick out something sexy to wear just for him, he'll let you take him to Levi's or what have you to get him new clothes. That being said, he is the type who, when you're trying to find his size, will fuck off and disappear, only for you to find him by the till, looking at the male jewelry displays and analyzing all the chains and bracelets and cheap watches.

Kyle Garrick is a sweetheart to shop with. He has a good sense of what looks good and what doesn't, and knows the basic of 'big prints work well with small prints and with plain colours', even if he doesn't really wear much of either. He also knows about colour blocking, funnily enough. He loves when his sweetheart tries things out in the dressing rooms just for him.

Simon Riley is the worst person to go shopping with. Be it for yourself or for him. He hates waiting around as you skim the clothes' racks... He'd rather sit outside in the Husband Chair™️ until you're done. And if you try to drag him to a male clothing shop to buy him stuff? He'll complain the whole time about the price and the quality. "Why would I pay 15 quid for a t-shirt when I can put in an order and get 5 shirts from the Army for free, da'lin'?"

#ikea writes 💚#masterlist #headcanon #simon ghost riley #captain john price #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #shopping headcanons #cod headcanons #141 headcanons #soap headcanons #ghost headcanons #price headcanons #gaz headcanons

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bradshawsbaby · 1 year

Text

the christmas gift

pairing: rhett abbott x wife!reader

author’s note: based on this adorable anonymous prompt about telling rhett you’re expecting!

lots of love to all the rhett sister wives out there, and all of you who have made me feel so welcome in the rhett abbott fan club™️

warnings: pregnancy and tooth-rotting fluff

“Want to know the first thing I’m doing when we get home?” you asked with a grin, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between you and your husband as you drove home through the gently falling snow.

“What’s that?” Rhett asked, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a smile. He took his eyes off the road for the briefest of seconds to glance down at where you were sitting curled up against his side in the cab of his truck.

“Putting on my Christmas jammies,” you laughed, resting your cheek against his shoulder and gazing out the window at the snow that swirled and danced in the bright beam of the headlights.

Rhett chuckled in response, and you could feel the vibrations of it coursing through your body.

“And you’re putting on yours, too, mister,” you informed him, poking him in the side with one very emphatic finger.

Your husband groaned in response, keeping his eyes fixed ahead on the dark winter road as he turned the wheel slightly in the direction of the cozy little cabin that awaited you, the one that you and Rhett had been turning into a home since the day you’d moved in.

“Honeybee, are you really gonna make me wear those itchy flannel pants with that damn button down shirt?” he demanded, feigning annoyance even as his indulgent smile told you that he’d gladly wear whatever you asked him to.

“Hey, you knew when you married me that you were in for a lifetime of matching Christmas pajamas, buddy. I don’t want to hear it,” you teased, nudging him playfully and giggling in open merriment.

“Yeah, yeah,” Rhett smirked, turning his head to drop a quick kiss to your forehead before locking his gaze on the road once more. “I don’t remember that coming up in the vows, y’know,” he added, turning the truck down the lane that led to home.

“Hmm, it was definitely in there,” you replied, tapping your chin as if in deep thought. “You must have been too blinded by my beauty and missed that part.”

“Well, now that is entirely possible,” he laughed, nodding his head slowly. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll wear the damn itchy pajamas,” he assured you, grinning widely.

“That’s the spirit,” you giggled, pressing an affectionate kiss to his shoulder.

“And after the Christmas jammies? What then?” Rhett asked, arching a curious eyebrow.

“Well naturally I’m going to make us the biggest mugs of hot chocolate that I can,” you told him. “And then…maybe we can open a couple presents?” you hinted with a big smile, looking up at him with your best puppy dog eyes.

“Too impatient to wait for Christmas morning?” Rhett laughed, shaking his head as the truck bounced along the final stretch of road.

“It’s after midnight, so technically it is Christmas morning,” you countered, trying to make your case.

You and Rhett had spent Christmas Eve on the Abbott Ranch with his family, enjoying a nice dinner and getting the chance to exchange some small gifts with each other. You’d be back again for Christmas dinner, and Cecilia had even suggested the two of you spending the night, but Rhett had wanted to get home.

“Want to wake up on Christmas morning, just the two of us,” he’d whispered to you, peppering your cheek with kisses.

You wanted that, too. Especially with the gift you were planning on giving him this year. Smiling to yourself, you pressed a hand to your stomach and felt the familiar butterflies of anticipation.

Or maybe it was the flutterings of the new life that was growing within you, the one that you and Rhett had made together.

It had been so hard to keep this secret. You’d been desperate to tell him the minute you held that first positive test in your hand, but you knew you wanted it to be special. Rhett deserved for the moment he learned he was going to be a father to be a special one.

So you’d waited, albeit a little impatiently, for Christmas to arrive. And now it was finally here.

“Alright, honeybee, how about one present each before bed?” Rhett suggested, turning to look at you.

You’d been so caught up in your thoughts that you hadn’t even realized he’d pulled the truck up in front of the house and put it in park.

“Perfect,” you nodded with a grin. One present was all you needed.

Rhett smiled, pushing open his door. “Come on, let’s get inside before we freeze to death out here,” he murmured, sliding out of the truck and then reaching up to help pull you down from the driver’s side.

As soon as you were both inside, shaking the snow from your hair and coats and boots, you were shedding your outer layers and dropping them by the front door, hurrying upstairs with a childlike grin and a determined sense of purpose.

“I’m gonna start a fire,” Rhett called up to you as you stripped out of your clothes and changed into the soft, cozy pajamas you’d picked out over a month ago—the ones that were very much not itchy, no matter how your husband protested.

“Sounds good! I’ll be back down in a minute!” you called back.

Before stepping out of your bedroom, you took one quick glance in the mirror of your vanity, fixing your hair and wiping at the small smudge of lipstick at the corner of your mouth. Your lips had thankfully managed to maintain the red hue of your lipstick, even after the four-course Christmas Eve meal Cecilia had prepared. You knew it was silly, what with it only being you and Rhett, but you wanted everything to go perfectly.

By the time you made your way back downstairs, a toasty fire was blazing in the stone fireplace, and Rhett had turned on the lights on the Christmas tree, which cast a warm and festive glow over the living room.

“Here you go, cowboy,” you teased, tossing him the plaid Christmas pajamas that paired with yours.

He rolled his eyes playfully as he caught them. “Only because I love you so much, honeybee,” he told you, wagging a finger as he dropped them onto the couch and began stripping right there, in the middle of the living room.

The sight of your husband standing half-naked in front of the Christmas tree, the light from the fireplace painting his skin a soft golden hue, was one you knew you wouldn’t soon forget.

Clearing your throat, you nearly tripped over your own two feet as you began moving towards the kitchen. “I’m gonna go make that hot cocoa now,” you told him, the warmth rising to your cheeks having nothing to do with the heat of the cabin.

A few minutes later, as you stood over the stovetop whisking together milk, cocoa powder, and sugar, you felt a strong pair of arms wrap around you from behind and your husband’s lips pressed against your shoulder.

“Almost ready?” he mumbled in a low voice, nuzzling his cheek against yours.

“Who’s the impatient one now?” you laughed, tilting your head to the side as you stirred the hot chocolate in the saucepan so that Rhett could press soft kisses to your cheek and jawline.

“Well now you’ve got me excited for presents,” he smirked, nipping lightly at your throat.

Your stomach did a pleasant little flip at the thought of the gifts that were soon to be exchanged—one gift, in particular.

“Five more minutes,” you told him, smiling. “Go get settled and I’ll bring it in.”

“Don’t keep me waiting too long,” he whispered in your ear, pressing a kiss to the shell of it before reluctantly releasing you and heading back into the living room to put another log on the fire.

Five minutes later, as promised, you walked into the living room with two large, steaming mugs of hot cocoa in hand. Rhett rose immediately to take his from you, resting his hand on your lower back as he guided you to the chair near the tree.

“Alright, now it’s time for presents,” you announced with a giddy smile, settling comfortably into your chair and taking a sip of hot chocolate before setting your mug down.

“Remember, honeybee, just one each,” Rhett teased with a wink, bopping you on the nose with a finger as he reached down for one of the gifts that was sitting wrapped underneath the tree. “I’ll give you mine first,” he said, handing you a flat, square-shaped package and then sitting back eagerly on his heels.

You couldn’t help but smile at the excited look on his face as you unwrapped the present, which looked to be a jewelry box if the black velvet was any indication. You let out a surprised gasp as you opened it up and saw what lay inside.

“Baby!” you cried, carefully lifting up the delicate bracelet and admiring the way it caught the lights on the tree. The gold chain was simple and dainty and exactly what you had wanted. You hadn’t even realized Rhett had noticed you admiring it when you passed by the jewelry store in Laramie. “Oh, but it’s so expensive!”

“Doesn’t matter,” Rhett insisted, resting a hand on your thigh. “Do you like it?”

“Oh, honey, I love it! Thank you!” you exclaimed, throwing your arms around his neck. You kissed him soundly to show your appreciation, and then held up the bracelet again to stare at it some more.

“C’mere, let’s try it on then,” Rhett said, taking it from your hand and gently wrapping it around your wrist, dropping a tender kiss to your arm as he clasped it. “Beautiful,” he grinned, his gaze locking with yours.

“Thank you, baby,” you said again, reaching out to touch his cheek. “It’s just what I wanted.”

You hoped your gift for him was just what he wanted, too.

“Now it’s your turn to open a gift,” you told him, your heart suddenly beating much faster inside your chest. Rising from your chair, you ducked around behind the tree and picked up the box that you’d carefully packaged and wrapped just the other day, while Rhett had been busy working with Royal and Perry. “Here you go, baby,” you murmured, handing the gift to him.

Rhett smiled as he took it from you, waiting until you had settled back down in your seat.

“Hmm, I don’t know,” he smirked, shaking the box ever so slightly. “Feels kind of light,” he joked, his blue eyes crinkling in the corners as he laughed.

“Oh, shut up and open it,” you laughed in return, squeezing your hands between your legs to hide the fact that they were suddenly trembling.

Chuckling, Rhett tore off the wrapping paper and slowly opened the little box that was revealed beneath. Watching him carefully, you saw his face slowly transform as he took in the present that was resting on a bed of sparkly white tissue paper.

His mouth morphed from a teasing smile to a slack-jawed “O” and his blue eyes widened to the size of dinner plates as he stared down at the tiny knitted booties, designed to look like a pair of mini cowboy boots, that rested on his lap.

You noticed the way his throat tightened and convulsed before he said anything. “Baby,” he rasped, lifting one little bootie up into the air. It looked so tiny in his large hand. “Baby, does this—I mean, are you—”

“Merry Christmas, Daddy,” you whispered, tears brimming in your eyes. When he just continued to stare at you, wide-eyed, you felt your stomach do another little flip. “Are you happy?” you asked softly.

“Am I—am I—oh, God, honeybee,” he gasped, placing the baby bootie back into the box and laying it to the side as he launched himself up off the ground and pulled you into his arms. “Am I happy? I’ve never been happier in my life,” he told you, squeezing you tight and spinning you around.

When your feet finally touched the floor again, his lips were on yours, kissing you with a mix of tenderness and raw desire. He pulled back after a moment or two, brushing your hair back from your face with a look of such deep love in his eyes that you momentarily forgot what it was to breathe.

“I’m so happy,” Rhett whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion and thick with unshed tears. “This is—this is the best gift anyone has ever given me.”

You grinned, realizing out of the blue that your cheeks were wet, though you weren’t even sure when you had started crying. “Well, it’s a gift we sort of gave each other. So we can go halfsies on it,” you giggled softly.

Rhett laughed at that, brushing your tears away and kissing you gently. His hand brushed down your body until it was resting over your stomach, his gaze shifting downward.

“So there’s really a baby in there? Our baby?” he asked, almost in disbelief.

“That’s what they tell me,” you laughed, resting your hand over his.

Beaming, Rhett knelt down reverently in front of you, pressing a loving kiss to your stomach through the fabric of the Christmas pajamas he’d teased you so mercilessly over. “Hey there,” he whispered, resting his cheek against your belly as you ran your fingers through his soft, honey-colored hair. “I’m your daddy. It’s nice to meet you.”

You laughed softly, your heart bursting with joy as you gazed down at him.

Rhett looked up at you and winked before adding, “Enjoy your time in there, little one. Come next year, your mama’s gonna make you wear some horrible pair of Christmas pajamas.”

He laughed loudly when you swatted the back of his head.

Rising back up, Rhett wrapped his arms around you and held you close to his chest, dropping a kiss to your forehead before resting his chin atop your head.

“I love you so much,” he breathed out, his hands warm and comforting as they held you tightly. “Merry Christmas, honeybee.”

#rhett abbott #rhett abbott x reader #rhett x reader #x reader #x female reader #outer range #lewis pullman

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